THE ROCK. 



THE ROCK. 



ILLUSTRATED WITH 



VARIOUS LEGENDS AND ORIGINAL SONGS, 

AND MUSIC, 



DESCRIPTIVE OF 



GIBRALTAR. 

by 4; v <> 

MAJOR HORT, 

EIGHTY-FIRST REGIMENT. 

WITH DRAWINGS, TAKEN ON THE SPOT, 
BY WILLIAM LACEY, ESQ., 

LIEUTENANT, FORTY-SIXTH REGIMENT. 



iBeijtcatelJ, by special ^rmtsston, to htx JWajestg, Ftctorta, ©ueeti of 3£nglanfc. 



LONDON: 

SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 

1839. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED BY BLATCH AND LAMPERT, 
GROVE PLACE, BROMPTON. 



\ 



/ 

BY SPECIAL PERMISSION, 
THIS WORK 

IS VERY HUMBLY DEDICATED 

TO 

HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY, 

VICTORIA, 
(Bmtn of (England, 

BY 

HIS SOVEREIGN'S 

MOST LOYAL, FAITHFUL, AND EVER DEVOTED 
SUBJECT AND SERVANT, 

RICHARD HORT, 

MAJOR 81ST REGIMENT. 



" Si quod vero Natura nobis dedit spectaculum in hac tellure, verb gratum, et 
philosopho dignum, id semel mihi contigisse arbitror; cum excelcissima rupe specu- 
labundus ad oram maris Mediterranei, bine aequor caeruleum, ilbuc tractus Alpinos 
prospexi; nihil quidem magis dispar aut dissimile, nec in suo genere, magis egregium 
et singulare. Hoc tbeatrum ego facile praetulerim Romanis cunctus, Graecisve; 
atque id quod natura hie spectantum exhibet, scenicis ludis omnibus, aut ampbi- 
theatri certaminibus. Nihil hie elegans aut venustum, sed ingens et magnificum, et 
quod placet magnitudine sua et quadam specie immensitatis. Hinc intuebar maris 
aequabilem superficiem, usque et usque diffusam, quantum maximum oculorum 
acies ferri potuit; illinc disruptissimam terrae faciem, et vastas moles varie elevatas 
aut depressas, erectas, propendentes, reclinatas, coacervatas, omni situ inaequali et 
turbido. Placuit, ex hac parte, naturae unitas et simpbeitas, et inexhausta qusedam 
planities; ex altera, multiformis confusio magnorum corporum, et insane rerum 
strages; quas cum intuebar, non urbis alicujus aut oppidi, sed confracti mundi 
rudera, ante oculos habere mihi visus sum. 

" In singulis fere montibus erat aliquid insolens et mirabile, sed praecaeteris mihi 
placebat ilia, qua sedebam, rupes; erat maxima et altissima, et qua mare respiciebat, 
melliori ascensu altitudinem suam dissimulabat : qua vero terram, horrendum 
pr3eceps, et quasi ad perpendiculum facta, instar parietis. Praeterea facies ilia 
terrestris adeo erat laevis ac uniformis (quod in rupibus aliquando observare licet) ac 
si scissa fuisset a summo ad imum, in illo piano; vel terras motu aliquo, aut fulmine, 
divulsa. 

" Dextrum latus montis erat praeruptum, aspero saxo et nuda caute; sinistrum 
non adeo neglexerat Natura, arboribus utporte ornatum. Denique in summo vertice 
promontorii, commode eminebat saxum, eui insidebam contemplabundus. Yale, 
augusta sedes, Eege digna: augusta rupes, semper mihi memoranda!" 

Burnefs Theory of the Earth. 



PREFACE. 



Wearied with the dull routine of garrison duty 
during a residence at Gibraltar, extending to a period 
nearly approaching three years, it may well be supposed 
that any occupation tending to break the monotony of the 
scene, would readily be embraced. 

The primary object of all " new arrivals " is to gain 
the highest pinnacle of the Rock, and from thence enjoy 
the splendid view laid out, as if in a map, before them ; 
and having ranged through the excavations, and shuddered 



Viii PREFACE. 

over the dark abyss in Saint Michael's Cave, they usually 
terminate their exertions, and depart fully impressed with 
the conviction, that everything in Gibraltar, worthy of 
notice, had been brought under their immediate obser- 
vation. 

Little satisfied with so cursory and superficial an 
examination, the Author eagerly availed himself of the 
many hours placed at his disposal, to explore the numerous, 
and in many instances, magnificent beauties which abound 
throughout and around the Rock. In these rambles, 
interesting even when prosecuted alone, but rendered 
doubly so, when enhanced by the presence of a friend, an 
Officer of the Forty-Sixth Regiment, whose pencil has so 
successfully embellished the following pages, zealously 
joined ; and to his correct delineation of the various spots 
enumerated, the Author owes the agreeable task of thus 
testifying his sense of the favour conferred, as also the 
pleasing satisfaction of recalling to memory the many 



PREFACE. xi 

happy hours he has passed with Mr. Lacey, while collecting 
materials for " The Rock." 

The Music, with but few exceptions, has been written 
expressly for this book by the talented composers whose 
names are appended to each song ; and it is confidently 
hoped, that the time and trouble unsparingly lavished in 
the endeavour to please, may not have been expended 
in vain. 

Of the melody of the ballads alluded to, the one 
headed " Other Days," was the gift of an old friend of 
the Sixty-Eighth Light Infantry, now no more ; and that 
commencing with the words, " Think you though my step 
be light," was presented by an acquaintance in the North 
of Ireland, with the assurance in either instance, that the 
air was original, and had never appeared in print. 

For the remainder of the volume, viz. the Legends, 
Narrative, and Songs, whatever blame may be deserved^ 
or peradventure, praise partially bestowed, one person 

h 



X PREFACE. 

alone is amenable ; and having endeavoured to strike out 
a somewhat novel mode of amusement, in thus connecting 
various ingredients, and attempting to blend the whole 
into a tale, the Author parts with a companion which has 
served to 

" Lighten many a weary horn- ;" 

and sending it forth to buffet with the world, craves indul- 
gence for its imperfections ; and for its merits — if any — a 
favourable reception and support. 



Gibraltar, 
Slst March, 1839. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



THE MOORISH MOSQUE AND CASTLE . . TO FACE THE TITLE 



^ NORTH FRONT, AND CEUTA .... 6 

o'hara's TOWER AND SIGNAL STATION . . .8 

THE PATIO CONVENT ..... 48 

THE CONVENT FROM THE GARDEN ... 54 

GIBRALTAR FROM ST. ROQUE . . . .65 

^/ GIBRALTAR FROM ALGESIRAS .... 70 

✓ martin's CAVE . . . . . .112 

, CONVENT CORK WOOD ..... 141 

,/CASTELLAR . . . . . .150 

/ H.R.H. PRINCE GEORGE OF CAMBRIDGE'S QUARTERS, AND TRINITY 

CHURCH ...... 156 

THE EXCHANGE, AND SPANISH CHAPEL . . . 169 



INDEX TO THE SONGS. 



PAGE 

1. TIME WAS ..... 15 

2. 'TIS I ALONE AM CHANGED . . . .22 

3. THE BROKEN HEART . . , . 57 

4. OH, DO NOT BID ME LEAVE THEE . . .83 

5. THE SUN SMILES o'ER . . . . 131 

6. OH, WELL I REMEMBER . . . .138 

7. NEW year's EVE ..... 145 

8. OTHER DAYS ...... 155 

9. THE ANDALUSIAN MAID .... 156 
10. OH, SAY NOT ...... 165 



INDEX TO THE TALES. 



PAGE 

THE LOST NUN . . . . . 25 

THE SPANISH LANCER . . . . .63 

THE MOORISH MAID ..... 93 



THE ROCK. 



It was a hot sultry day at noon, in the month of 
March, 1839 — the air was as oppressively close as could 
be experienced at any more advanced period of the year 
in England — when the sound of distant music in the main 
street of Gibraltar foretold the return of the troops from 
the Neutral Ground, where they had been exercising since 
an early hour in the morning. 

The streets, as usual, were crowded with contraband- 
istas, who, arrayed in then fanciful yet picturesque cos- 
tumes, were busily engaged in completing purchases, with 
the laudable and confessed intention of defrauding the re- 



2 GIBRALTAR AT NOON. 

venues of their own country, to the greatest extent their 
ingenuity could devise, or their intrepidity effect. 

Here and there the graceful figure of some dark-eyed 
senorita might have been observed gliding noiselessly along 
the sunny pavement towards the Spanish chapel, under 
whose portal she would suddenly vanish, as she entered 
the sacred edifice to offer up her mid-day prayers. But at 
the hour named few ladies were to be met; and though 
no scarcity of beauty was discovered peering forth from 
behind the friendly shelter of the green jalousie, it is 
not the period when a stranger may expect to find a 
Spanish lady without the sanctuary of her own abode. 

Moors in their stately dresses of various hues, and 
the more humbly apparelled Jew shuffling along in his 
yellow slippers, were to be met with in abundance ; while 
Greeks, Genoese, Africans, and natives from every province 
in Spain, crowded the long street which forms the principal 
feature of the town. 

Those whom fortune may not have induced to visit 
the Rock of Gibraltar, should take an early opportunity 
of supplying the omission ; for dull and wearisome as the 



- 



SCENERY. 3 

place may seem to most whose prolonged sojourn in the 
garrison is not entirely optional, there is much beauty 
both in animate, as well as in inanimate nature, amply 
sufficient to repay the traveller for his exertions. 

Much has been written, and many views have already 
been published, illustrative of the scenery around; but 
there is still a great deal to behold, and ample novelties to 
descant on, which have escaped the observation of former 
tourists ; and which may be found as redolent of interest 
as any of those already submitted to the observation of the 
public. 

We know not why it is, but whenever " the pomp 
and circumstance of war" makes its appearance, arrayed 
in all the splendid panoply thereunto pertaining, none can 
complain of a paucity of bright eyes to gaze on the glitter- 
ing pageant; and though no scarcity of military parade 
exists, the absence of fair forms and flowing mantillas, to 
hover round the scene of martial display, never lends its 
aid towards the tedium and sameness of garrison detail. 

On the occasion of which we write, the whole of the 
troops had been under arms; and the presence of a 



• 



4 A ROYAL RESIDENT. 

member of the Royal Family, who for some months past 
had fixed his residence on the Rock, might probably have, 
in some measure, prolonged the manoeuvres beyond the 
accustomed hour. The morning had been most propitious 
for the exercise— the breeze on the neutral ground de- 
lightful; and even at the early season of the year, all 
vegetation bespoke the expected approach of summer. 

Cold and apathetic, indeed, must that person be, 
who can gaze unmoved on the bright banner of old Eng- 
land, as, fluttering in the breeze, it is borne along, amid the 
host of gallant hearts, whose loyalty and devotion have 
preserved its honour untarnished through many a scene of 
carnage and death : and as the full burst of music pre- 
ceding each column falls on the ear, and while the eye 
rests on the waving plumes and glittering arms of the 
warriors, who have carried the valour and enterprise of 
their nation to the remotest corners of the earth, who 
is there whose breast has not, on the instant, cherished a 
feeling of enthusiasm, and mentally rejoiced in the proud 
name of the country that owns him ? 

But, in this instance, there was more than ordinary to 



GARRISON DUTY. 5 

attract the attention of the lookers-on ; for amid the throng 
of military then present, rode, in no way distinguished in 
dress from the other officers, a prince of the blood royal of 
the House of Hanover. 

Born in a sphere unavoidably separated at an immense 
distance from intimate communion with all of inferior rank ; 
and placed by circumstances in a position, from whence 
little inducement could be offered for descending to the 
level of others, it became a subject of astonishment and 
applause, that one so young and gifted, should voluntarily 
forsake the innumerable pleasures which were fast sur- 
rounding him ; and leaving all his earlier associates, and 
curbing the natural voice of affection, should have sought 
a garrison, where the duty is unavoidably the strictest, with 
the determination of entering on his career in no other 
manner than that which falls to the lot of every subaltern 
officer. 

Novel, and possibly tedious as the study was, His 
Royal Highness had the good taste to appreciate the 
motives of those who encouraged his determination ; and 
moreover evinced his strong good sense, by steadily entering 



6 URBANITY OF PRINCE GEORGE. 

into each detail of his profession, with a zeal and alacrity, 
which rendered the office of instruction a work of real 
pleasure and gratification to those whom good fortune 
selected to be thus employed. 

With an urbanity truly characteristic of our Royal 
Family, Prince George of Cambridge could not fail in gain- 
ing the warm esteem of every one ; and if at any period 
hereafter, His Royal Highness may chance to recur with 
pleasure to the recollection of his sojourn on the Rock, he 
must feel convinced, that the same epoch will be borne in 
the memory of all ranks, with feelings of the highest re- 
spect for himself, and a due appreciation of the honour 
which his kind manner, and unaffected frankness conferred 

on each individual, who could boast of his acquaintance. 



"Are you for guard to-day, Fairlie?" enquired a young 
officer of his friend, while marching in rear of their bat- 
talion. 

"On guard!" replied the other, "no, no, not I, indeed, 
thank the fates ; I only came off yesterday, and have no 



DUTY AT LANDPORT. 7 

intention whatever of revisiting that abominable abode for 
four or five days at soonest." 

" I wish I could say as much," answered his com- 
panion ; " but alas, I must change my dress as soon as I 
reach my room, and be off for my accustomed purgatory 
at Landport." 

" Is Landport your destination, then ?" laughingly re- 
joined Fairlie; "come, come, you're not so badly off as 
you might be ; for, at least, you have one advantage on that 
guard, none other can boast." 

" Have I indeed?" quickly enquired Osborne; "I sin- 
cerely wish your ingenuity could point it out ; for on my 
word, Fairlie, notwithstanding my experience, I have never 
had discrimination sufficient, to discover what advantage 
there may be in dwelling for four and twenty consecutive 
hours among rats and mosquitoes." 

"Pshaw!'' replied Fairlie; "rats and mosquitoes in- 
deed ! why, my dear fellow, you are so awfully matter of 
fact, that I verily believe you possess not a particle of sen- 
timent in your whole composition." 

"I dare say you are right, Fairlie," laughingly an- 



8 ADVANTAGES AT LANDPORT. 

swered the other, "and I must plead guilty to the accusa- 
tion ; but come, tell me the advantage of Landport !" 

" You may not so call it," said Fairlie ; " but I should 
decidedly deem it an advantage, and no trifling one either, 
were I enabled to scan the slight forms, and gaze on the 
brilliant eyes of every Andalusian damsel who enters the 
gates of Gibraltar. Why, my dear fellow," he continued, 
getting somewhat energetic on the subject, " there is not a 
person or animal, who leaves or arrives on the Rock by 
land, whose face you cannot scrutinize, if such be your 
bent." 

" Granted," answered Osborne ; " but what great ad- 
vantage is to be gained thereby ? for on my word, I am 
still ignorant." 

"Without exception," quickly replied his friend, "you 
are the most provoking fellow in the universe : do you call 
it nothing, to bask in the sunshine of the loveliest eyes that 
ever shot forth their irresistible influence from beneath the 
long silken lashes which, in mercy to us mortals, partially 
veil their dazzling brilliancy ? Do you call it nothing to — " 

"Cease, cease, I pray you,, Fairlie," laughingly inter- 



PROJECTED EXCURSIONS. 9 

rupted Osborne;- "I can't acknowledge myself so totally 
heartless as you have pictured me, for I know few who can 
derive more pleasure from the contemplation of any lovely 
object than myself." 

" I am delighted to hear it," responded Fairlie ; " and 
since such is the case, I propose we make short excursions 
on, and beyond the Rock, in search of the beautiful, at 
the earliest opportunity." 

" With the greatest pleasure," was the rejoinder; "but 
I make it a sine qua non, that you persuade Delacy to ac- 
company us, with his pencil and portfolio, while you carry 
your guitar across your shoulder, and give the reins to 
all your long pent-up poetry and romance. Is it agreed?" 

"Agreed, agreed," replied Fairlie; and the regiment 
having now reached their barracks, the friends separated; 
the one to dress for guard, while the other went in search 
of Delacy, in the hope of persuading him to join them in 
their projected rambles. 



c 



10 MORNING. 

The report of the morning gun from the signal-station 
of Gibraltar, reverberating across the Bay, found its echo 
on the hills of Algesiras, and passing onward, died away 
amid the picturesque mountains of Africa, summoning with 
its sonorous tone the many who, in a hot climate, invaria- 
bly arise at that hour to encounter the toils and pleasures 
of the new-coming day. 

At that most delicious period of the morning, ere the 
sun puts forth his strength to retain his supremacy until 
night; and when the balmy coolness of the air is impreg- 
nated with the delicious fragrance emanating from myriads 
of flowers, which everywhere abound, the Rock may be 
viewed in its most enchanting form. 

Twilight — the dear hour of twilight — which in our 
colder country we so prize on the joyous nights of summer, 
claims but a small portion either of the morn or eve, in 
this far milder clime; for scarcely has the day commenced 
to dawn, ere the brilliant sun, rising as it were from the 
blue waves of the Mediterranean, pours his refulgent 
beams on the lands so peculiarly his own. 



WINDMILL HILL. 11 

The dew was yet hanging in silver drops on the varie- 
gated leaves of the sweet-scented geranium; and the grace- 
ful boughs of the drooping pepper-tree yet retained the 
refreshing influence of the night, when the three friends 
proceeded in high spirits on their brief tour. 

The view from Windmill Hill, as they descended 
towards the town, could not fail to attract notice. The 
vast expanse of the glorious Mediterranean to the east, 
bounded in part by the lofty and apparently perpendicular 
hills of Africa, is in itself sufficient to enchain attention ; 
yet, as they descended from that elevated spot, and wound 
their way amid the luxuriant gardens which the disin- 
terested care of the present Governor has cultivated so 
judiciously, and at so great a personal expense, the view 
across the smooth and almost transparent bay, bounded by 
the Spanish coast, is amply sufficient to repay any lover of 
nature for the distance he had travelled, or the early hour 
he had sallied forth to enjoy the landscape. 

Poets and musicians, from time immemorial, have been 
allowed, however justly or otherwise, the possession of 



12 THE VIEW 

keen perception and somewhat refined feeling, whereby to 
appreciate every loveliness which the beneficence of an all- 
bountiful Providence has thought fit to lavish : and as the 
eyes of the young soldiers, albeit not unaccustomed to the 
view even at that early hour, dwelt on the splendid pano- 
rama, conversation for the moment ceased among them; and 
each as it were communing within himself, luxuriated in the 
contemplation of the gorgeous scene portrayed. But when 
the fast disappearing vapours, rolling away their nearly 
transparent curtain from the blue hills of Andalusia, ex- 
tended the view over groves of orange trees, and tracts 
covered with the vine, Fairlie, guided by that impulse so 
common to young enthusiastic spirits in their first days of 
happiness, and still gazing on the view, uttered, almost 
unconsciously, the spirit-stirring quotation from Marmion. 

" The spur he to his charger lent, 
And raised his bridle hand ; 
And making demi-volte in air, 
Cried, ' Where's the coward who would not dare 
To fight for such a land V " 



FROM WINDMILL HILL. 13 

" What, already, Fairlie !" exclaimed Delacy, laughing. 
" This is an early hour in the morning for heroics ; but the 
scenery before us may, undoubtedly, in a great measure, 
pardon your excitement." 

" Your pardon," replied his more mercurial companion, 
" your pardon, Delacy, is well bestowed ; for the excite- 
ment, as you term it, has now passed away ; and forsooth," 
added he, somewhat in a serious tone, " I seldom gaze on 
anything more than usually lovely, but, when the first 
burst of imagination has escaped me, a feeling nearly 
approaching to melancholy usurps its place." 

" Surely, my dear boy," exclaimed Osborne, " you 
cannot have aught to do with dismal forebodings, and dark 
anticipations of coming evil." 

" Perhaps I have my share as well as others, Osborne," 
he rejoined, resuming his joyous tone ; " but were any one 
to look on you at this moment, he would most indisputably 
say your countenance bespoke an accumulation of blighted 
hopes and disappointed loves, sufficient to fill the shelves of 
all the circulating libraries in Christendom." 



14 WINDMILL HILL. 

" Then my looks belie my feelings," jocularly replied 
Osborne. 

" May be, may be," answered his volatile friend ; " but 
at all events I'll tell you what such a countenance as yours 
might to express ;" and touching his guitar, Fairlie, half 
laughing, and half in earnest, sang — 



15 



TIME WAS. 



Foic E 




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fee 



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Time was 



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when all ap__pear__ed to me Bright, 



beau_ti_ful, beau__ti_ful and 



13 



« — • 
• — • 



V 



lit_tle thought how speed _i 



That time would 




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P 



m 



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glide, That time would glide a w*y. 

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Nor dreamt 

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that a few sh< 


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That smiles would e__ver turn to tears, 



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TIME WAS. 



1. 

Time was when all appeared to me 

Bright, beautiful, and gay; 
I little thought how speedily 

That time would pass away, 
Nor dreamt I that a few short years 

Might chill my bosom's glow : 
That smiles should ever turn to tears, 

I little thought to know. 

2. 

Time was when those I loved were nig 

To watch me when I smiled; 
Those days, alas ! have long gone by — 

No longer I'm a child. 
The forms whereon I used to gaze, 

No more may meet mine eye ; 
The joys and hopes of other days 

Have blossom'd but — to die. 



18 WINDMILL HILL. 

" Thanks, Fairlie, thanks," exclaimed both his compa- 
nions ; " but I," continued Osborne, " cannot plead guilty 
to such a prostration as you describe of all those ties and 
feelings which attach us to this earth. However, I suppose 
it is all very necessary in poetry; and as you are well 
aware I was ever more matter-of-fact than romantic, you 
must pardon my bad taste in declining to feel so very 
miserable as you appear to consider necessary for the credit 
of my countenance." 

" As you will, friend of mine," answered the other, 
smiling ; "if you have not sentiment enough to be unhappy 
at the right moment, so that there is no real foundation for 
your low spirits, you lose one of the most delicious plea- 
sures the mind is capable of enjoying." 

" Do I indeed ?" jocularly enquired the officer alluded 
to. " Then, on my honour, it is a pleasure, the loss of 
which I can in no way regret, however much my want of 
sentiment may deteriorate from your good opinion of so 
humble a person as myself. But a truce to all this. 
Come, Delacy, and let Fairlie and myself know what trea- 
sures you hide within the sombre covers of your portfolio." 



CATALAN BAY. 19 

And taking the sketch-book from the hands of his friend, 
he commenced an examination of its contents. 

" Why, here's a view of my old station at Catalan 
Bay," exclaimed Fairlie, while examining the drawings with 
his friend ; " and taken from the signal post. Why, when 
was this done, Delacy ?" 

" A few days back," was the reply. 

" And most correctly delineated, truly," chimed in 
Osborne. " Not a stone or line but is here faithfully 
impressed on the paper. We must find more work for 
your pencil, Delacy, if you mean to continue your drawings 
in this style." 

" I'm glad you like it," he replied ; " and in one 
respect I own myself fortunate ; that is, in having found a 
point from whence to work, which I am not conscious has 
ever been intruded on by others." 

In this all parties coincided ; and the drawing having 
been returned to the portfolio, the trio continued their 
stroll. 



n 



20 THE ALAMEDA. 

The road towards the south entrance of the town 
now wound down the delightful walks of the Alameda, 
where the various kiosks and ornamental summer-houses, 
raising then gilded domes from among the thick foliage of 
the gum-cistus and quick-growing bellasombra and cotton- 
trees, greatly enhanced the beauty of that delightful pro- 
menade. Below the gardens, extends, for a considerable 
distance, the smooth gravel of the parade ; and from 
thence, passing under the sculptured arms of Charles the 
Fifth, the fortress is entered. 

These grounds were originally projected and planted 
by Sir George Don ; but it was reserved for His Excellency, 
the present Governor, to cause them to be extended and 
improved, until they formed (as now) an agreeable shelter 
from the midday sun, and a much frequented place wherein 
to saunter and enjoy the western breeze in the cool of a 
bright summer's eve. 



" My dear Fairlie," exclaimed Osborne, " I wish you 
would either play something for the amusement of Delacy 



THE ALAMEDA. 21 

and myself, or else spare us the repetition of the continued 
twang of your guitar. If you will sing, we shall be de- 
lighted to hear you; but if you purpose delaying your 
melody to some future period, I propose we proceed on 
our way." 

" Agreed, say I, to the latter part of your suggestion," 
replied the other ; " but think you I will cast away my 
only solace through many a dull, weary hour — my hope, 
my joy, my dearly loved guitar ?" he continued, in mock 
heroics ; " not I, indeed, Osborne ; but as my last song 
seems but scantily to have met your approval, I'll try 
another strain — so list, gentles, list." 



'TIS I ALONE AM CHANGED. 



1. 

Those days can never more return, when I was blithe and gay ; 
The scythe of Time has passed them o'er, and swept their bloom away. 
It is not that this world hath grown less lovely than it smiled 
In bygone days, 'mid happier years, when I was yet a child. 
Then wherefore should the joyous laugh strike coldly on mine ear 1 ? 
And wherefore springs the deep-drawn sigh, and oft unbidden tear ? 
The flowers are fair and beautiful as when I fondly ranged 
'Mid many a scene the same as now — 'tis I alone am changed. 

2. 

Those days I ne'er can see again, ere sorrow touch'd my brow, 
When I knew naught but happiness. — Alas ! what know I now 1 
It seems to me but yesterday I left my happy home, 
Its shady glades and meads, whereon I loved so well to roam ; 
Yet care has tracked my pilgrimage, and years have glided o'er, 
'Mid pain and grief, since that loved time, which can return no more ; 
And feelings which in youth I had, in manhood seem estranged. 
All, all around appears the same — 'tis I alone am changed. 



REPARTEE. 23 

" I'm delighted to hear it, Fairlie, and I hope the 
change will be for the better," remarked Osborne, as the 
song finished ; " but you never told Delacy and myself 
what brought about this sudden change you speak of." 

" Now really," he replied, appealing to his other 
auditor, " is it not past all sufferance that let the words or 
music be what they may, be they ever so good or ever so 
faulty, Osborne is sure to step in with some detestable 
remark or bad joke, in the attempt to turn all into ridicule. 
I wish I could but persuade you to sing," he continued, 
addressing his tormenter ; " if I don't find errors both in 
your poetry and melody, depend on it, the omission will 
not arise from want of searching for them." 

" Candid, at least," laughed his friend ; " but my dear 
Fairlie, if you never tune your guitar until you pitch your 
notes as an accompaniment to my voice, I fear the instru- 
ment would in tune resemble 

' The harp that hung in Tara's halls ;' 



since I cannot imagine the bribe that would tempt me to 
break the spell. But it will never answer standing idly 



24 THE CONVENT GATEWAY. 

talking here, when there is so much amusement before us, 
and so little time wherein to accomplish it; therefore, 
loiter not longer, but proceed." 

" Did you ever remark that extraordinary gateway ?" 
exclaimed Osborne, drawing the attention of his com- 
panions to a curiously carved piece of architecture which 
is erected immediately within the gates of the town. 
" There is a legend attached to the building, which once 
stood on that site," he continued ; " and though yet veiled 
in considerable mystery, it possesses, in my humble opinion, 
no small degree of interest : and should it suit your hu- 
mour, I will relate the story as we ride along." 

The proposition thus made, was readily accepted; and 
the sketch which adorns our frontispiece, is an exact repre- 
sentation of the structure in question. 

In due time the seaside was reached, .and as the 
small party rode leisurely on the sands, the promise men- 
tioned was redeemed by the relation of 



THE LOST NUN. 



It was some years after the recapture of Gibraltar 
from the Moors, by John de Guzman, Duke de Medina 
Sidonia, that the gateway which Delacy has so correctly 
depicted, formed the outer entrance to the cloisters of a 
Franciscan Convent of Nuns, whose great extent, and mul- 
titudinous buildings, occupied that large space of ground, 
now dedicated to perhaps a more useful, but certainly not 
to so picturesque and imposing a purpose — namely, a mili- 
tary store-house. 

The edifice now occupied by our hospitable Governor, 
and commonly known to this day as the Convent, was a 



26 THE LOST NUN. 

Franciscan Convent of Friars, and of course solely dedica- 
ted to the use of the devotees of the rougher sex ; while 
the prayers uttered, and the vespers warbled by the 
imprisoned nuns, were heard in the chapel of the domicile 
first alluded to. 

In 1502, and for years subsequent, and during the 
reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, atrocities were committed, 
and crimes perpetrated, which in our more civilized time, 
would be considered improbable in the extreme, and if 
effected, could rarely escape detection, and consequent 
abhorrence and punishment. 

Such, however, was not the case in the early period of 
which I now treat ; nor, indeed, were the iniquities carried 
on, principally confined to the lower classes, where want 
and temptation too often instigate to the commission of 
crime, which otherwise they might never have been made 
acquainted with. 

Pride, jealousy, and the naturally hot temper of the 
Spanish nobles, unrestrained by any laws, save those which 
at their pleasure could be evaded, encouraged, in no small 
degree, the accomplishment of their projects, at however 



THE LOST NUN. 27 

great an expense of justice, or even life, the indulgence 
was to be purchased. 

On no point did their over-bearing pride find a firmer 
footstool than on that of birth ; and the bare supposition 
of the possibility of a marriage being contracted by any 
member of a family, which the relations deemed objection- 
able, was sufficient at all times to rouse the vindictive 
feelings of all connected with the delinquent ; and rather 
than not frustrate what they viewed as a consummation of 
disgrace, few would have paused in the commission of 
any cruelty, or indeed hesitated to imbrue their hands in 
blood. 

It was a wet night, in the middle of winter; the rain 
poured down in torrents from the dark lowering clouds, 
which hung as a funeral canopy over the Rock. The bell 
of the church of St. Mary the Crowned, had just tolled the 
midnight hour, when a horseman, closely muffled, and en- 
tirely concealed by his cloak, and followed by two servants 
well mounted, dashed up the uneven causeway that led to 
the convent of Nuns, and violently reined in his steed at 
the portal. 

E 



28 THE LOST NUN. 

In an instant his attendants had dismounted, and 
while one announced their arrival, by loudly knocking with 
his dagger's hilt against the solid door which opposed their 
entrance, the other stood by his master's horse, ready to 
assist the cavalier in dismounting. 

The night was so extremely dark, as to render all 
attempts at discovering the features of the party abortive : 
if, indeed, any one could have been found, whom curiosity 
might tempt thus unadvisedly to court a danger which, in 
those times, was of no trifling magnitude ; for any attempt 
to pry into the affairs of others, particularly if in any way 
connected with the nobles, was certain to entail on the 
inquisitive intruder unequivocal marks of resentment for 
his interference. 

The wind howled dismally through the long cloisters 
of the building; and the rain beat with redoubled fury 
against the casements of the convent, as the stranger fol- 
lowed the tottering steps of the aged janitor who obeyed 
his impatient summons. 

" Lead me straight to the lady abbess," demanded the 
intruder, in an imperious tone. 



THE LOST NUN. 29 

" The lady abbess, gallant sir," faintly replied the 
other, in the trembling accents of old age, — " the lady 
abbess, noble senor, has long since retired to rest; and 
were it not that the vows of this holy Franciscan sisterhood 
forbid that any wanderer should here seek shelter, and find 
it not, the portals of the convent had not opened this night 
for even your admission." 

" Indeed!" sharply retorted the other; "methinks you 
little know whom thus you commune with ; but enough 
of this. Call up some of the slumbering sisterhood with 
speed, and bid them bear this token to the lady abbess, 
and see that it be done quickly. Old man, you deal with 
one who ill can brook delay or opposition." And, motion- 
ing the porter to leave the iron lamp on the pavement, the 
aged doorkeeper proceeded on his errand. 

The flickering light thus falling on the tall figure, 
standing as though transfixed to the marble beneath his 
feet, discovered that, by his left arm, he supported a 
form closely wrapped within the folds of his cloak, but 
from which latter the rain fell fast and plashing on the 
ground. 



30 THE LOST NUN. 

The thunder now broke in terrific bursts over the 
convent, and the forked lightning gleaming through the 
richly carved roof, and beautifully painted windows above, 
for an instant illuminated the torn banners, and mouldering 
armour, suspended over the marble effigies of many a gal- 
lant supporter of the Order. 

It was a fearful night, and would have been rendered 
more appalling to many, had they rested where the stranger 
and his charge stood, surrounded by the tombs of the dead 
who slumbered beneath. Yet no superstitious feeling held 
possession in the mind of him who now gazed as if on 
vacancy. The fierce rolling eye of passion, the contracted 
brow and closely compressed lips, showed the inward 
working of nature's fiercest passions, rather than of 
thoughts soaring amid the yet unravelled mysteries of 
another world. The large Spanish hat, ornamented with 
a single feather drooping over his shoulder, was pulled 
closely over his brow ; the cloak concealed the most part of 
his figure ; but the clang of the rapier, as it descended on 
the pavement, bespoke him otherwise than unarmed. 

The features were those of a young man, and emi- 



THE LOST NUN. 31 

nently handsome; but the dark furrows and deeply 
engraven lines on his countenance, bore testimony to the 
ill regulated tenor of his mind. 

Anon he would clasp, as it were involuntarily, the 
jewelled hilt of his rapier ; and as minute succeeded minute 
without bringing the return of the porter, the cavalier 
would stamp his foot upon the tesselated pavement with 
an unrestrained motion of impatience, till the echo of his 
armed heel rang in strange discord along the aisles. 

In vain he looked in the direction where he expected 
his guide to appear — all remained dark in the distance; 
and at length an exclamation of displeasure, somewhat 
allied to a threat, heedlessly escaped his lips. 

Hitherto the form beside him had remained mute and 
stationary as himself ; but, as if suddenly waking from a 
trance, a groan was succeeded by a long sigh, and a 
woman's melodious voice, in the accents of entreaty and 
grief, broke the stillness around. 

" Huberto, Huberto," sobbed forth the lady, in the 
deepest tones of anguish and despair, " do not, oh, for the 
love of all the saints, do not leave me in this dreadful 



32 THE LOST NUN. 

place — let me but once more return home — let me but 
breathe the free air of Heaven, and I will ask, I will implore 
no more. Huberto, my brother, my only brother, leave 
me not here to perish!" 

" Silence, Alitea!" was the almost savage reply. "How 
dare you thus profane the holy edifice which from this, 
until your last day, must be your home ? Is it not sufficient 
that the honour of a noble house is tarnished, irremediably 
tarnished, through your machinations — the vile machina- 
tions of a love-sick girl ? Methinks 'tis time," he conti- 
nued, in a sneering tone, " that the discipline of this house 
be exerted to lead your thoughts into a more healthy chan- 
nel — you have disgraced your family, disgraced yourself, 
and from this hour, we cast you off for ever." 

" You wrong me, Huberto ; on my soul's salvation, 
you wrong me," cried, or rather shrieked the poor creature, 
falling at his feet ; " never shall dishonour taint our family 
through my means — I loved, I own I loved — but oh ! Hu- 
berto, how knew I of the deadly feud with which our 
house viewed him and all his kinsmen. That is the whole 
amount of my offence, Huberto ; and only release me from 



4 



THE LOST NUN. 33 

this drear abode, and I will swear," she added, raising her 
arms to heaven, " I will swear by the holy Virgin, if you 
desire it, never to see him more." 

"You need not swear, Alitea," replied her brother, 
with the calm fiend-like expression of gratified revenge ; 
" you need not swear, Alitea ; the good lady Abbess of the 
convent will take ample measures for providing against any 
such humiliation. But here comes the porter, with a sum- 
mons from the Abbess, so arise and follow me ; and if you 
be not inclined for harsher treatment than I wish you to 
receive, keep your own counsel, and none may know you 
take the veil unwillingly." 

" Huberto, by the remembrance of the love you once 
professed for me, leave me not thus ; I will obey your com- 
mands, Huberto, will be your servant, your slave — will 
stoop to any menial office, if you will but restore me to my 
home. Oh! my brother, think of the days of our child- 
hood; think of the many years of happiness we have passed 
together, and then surely you will not, cannot leave your 
only sister here to perish." And the poor girl, in the 
agony of her grief and apprehended desertion, seized the 



34 THE LOST NUN. 

folds of his long cloak within her arms, and clasping the 
dripping mantle to her breast, firmly retained it within her 
pressure, as though it were the last link that bound her to 
all of hope and happiness she might look for in this world. 

Hard indeed must have been the heart, and glazed 
the eye, that could contemplate unmoved, the undissem- 
bled agony of the beautiful figure then lying prostrate at 
his feet. Her long dark tresses, dishevelled by the storm, 
fell in disordered ringlets over her young and palpitating 
bosom ; and the thorough anguish of the beseeching look 
with which she strove to rekindle affection in the now 
estranged breast of her brother, might have turned from 
his purpose the designs of any, save the unrelenting 
Spaniard, torn with the unquenchable passions of suspicion 
and revenge. 

" Arise, Alitea," exclaimed the monster, spurning with 
his foot the unhappy being thus grovelling before him; 
"arise, and kneel not for mercy to one whom your conduct 
has so deeply injured — I say arise !" 

Thus conjured, the stately figure of Alitea de Lucer- 
na, slowly left its humiliating position, and erecting herself 



THE LOST NUN. 35 

to her full height, she calmly crossed her arms upon her 
breast, and ceasing all further entreaty or complaint, gazed 
steadily on her companion's face. 

" Huberto," slowly commenced a tone, hoarse and 
sepulchral, as though it issued from the tomb ; " Huberto, 
hear me for the last time ; I have, until now, deigned to 
play the woman, and have allowed my instinctive dread 
of this detested abode, so far to overcome my firmer nature, 
that I have prayed, sued, and petitioned at your feet, for re- 
lease from the horrid doom, to undergo which, even were I 
guilty of the most heinous crimes, would be more than am- 
ple atonement for them. 

" I have wept to you, I have implored, for and by the 
recollection of the happy days of our infancy, I have sup- 
plicated mercy, and in return, you have with cold cruelty 
denied my boon ; and with the badge of chivalry on your 
heel, have struck me to the ground. Now, listen; the 
noble blood of our house, flows as proudly through my 
veins, as yours : from this moment I cease to owe love or 
obedience to my persecutors — I cast back your foul calum- 
nies, with the contempt they deserve — I discard you from 

F 



/ 



36 THE LOST NUN. 

my thoughts — I renounce your name, and here willingly 
embrace a monastic life, and thus separate from my kins- 
men for ever ; yet mark me, Huberto, and heed me well." 
And here the beautiful figure of the persecuted girl as- 
sumed an attitude, one fair arm pointing to heaven, as 
though gifted with the power of prophecy. " Mark me," 
she repeated, as the words slowly fell from her lips; "once 
and once only, shall we meet again in this world: from the 
instant your shadow ceases to darken the threshold of this 
accursed house, I am dead to the world, and to my race ; 
yet, I repeat, we shall meet once more, and fatal will it be 
to one — perchance to both. But come it when it may; be 
it fast verging to the hour of fulfilment, or be the period of 
its consummation yet afar off, I warn you, we shall meet 
again ; but of that meeting — beware ! ! ! " 



The sun had just sunk to rest on a delicious evening 
in summer ; the doors of the neighbouring Franciscan Con- 
vent were thrown open, and numbers of persons from the 



THE LOST NUN. 37 

adjacent hamlets, nocked, in their best attire, to offer up 
their prayers at the shrine of some favourite saint. 

The site on which the numerous buildings during the 
last century have sprung up, presented nothing in those 
days, either alluring to the eye of the weary traveller, or 
seductive to the more fastidious taste of the nobles. The 
churches and convents were of course the most prominent 
edifices then erected ; and the few houses of entertainment 
which the increasing importance of the place rendered 
absolutely necessary for the accommodation of its visitors, 
were situated, in no very picturesque form, near the spot 
now known as the Water Port Gate. 

Even at this remote date, Gibraltar was considered a 
place, the possession of which was esteemed of much im- 
portance ; and although traffic to any extent was naturally 
unlooked for from a rock possessing so few opportunities of 
culture, yet, as an anchorage for vessels going to and from 
the Mediterranean, it was sought by ships of all countries ; 
and consequently its streets, or more properly speaking, its 
narrow thoroughfares, were crowded chiefly with foreigners 
of every description. 



38 THE LOST NUN. 

It was, as I have already said, a delightful summer's 
eve : — the beautiful chapel of the convent was decked as 
for high mass, and the numerous wax tapers distributed 
among the lofty pillars of the aisles, proclaimed a grander 
than usual service in anticipation. 

The drawing which Delacy has taken on the spot, 
affords an exact representation of the building, as it now 
stands ; but in the days wherein occurred the events with 
the relation of which I have endeavoured to interest you, 
the body of the chapel extended the whole length of the 
convent ; and a long and lofty chamber, supported by two 
rows of pillars, in which His Royal Highness the Duke of 
Kent afterwards held his Governor's banquets, constituted, 
in older times, a portion of the aisle. 

The pillars in question still retain the outlines, and in 
some instances, the colours of the numerous flowers painted 
around them ; and the massive staples for candelabras fixed 
in the ceiling, together with the numerous decorations 
around, though fast falling to decay, speak plainly of the 
joyous mirth and happy laughter which nearly forty years 
since were frequently heard to echo round the walls. 



THE LOST NUN. 39 

Those intonations, however, have long ceased to 
vibrate in that hall ; and as the low murmur of prayer, and 
the scarcely audible sound of the sandalled footstep of the 
cowled friar had before died away, so have now the glad- 
some voices and merry jests which, in more modern days, 

" Were wont to set the table on a roar," 
glided into oblivion : and how few, how very few now 
remain, who can recall even the memory of that period of 
their triumph and delight ! 



As the evening advanced, the aisle of the church 
became thronged with persons anxious to witness the 
expected ceremony ; and the friars moving noiselessly 
along the lofty corridors of the building, and arrayed in 
all the gorgeous trappings of the church of Rome, pre- 
dicted the approach of some imposing ceremonial. A 
delightful perfume spread through the arched cloisters; 
and the subdued tone of the sacred music, scarcely suffi- 
cient to drown the whisper of confession, added greatly to 
impress all present with a deep feeling of religious awe. 



40 THE LOST NUN. 

In due time, the brotherhood entered at the western 
extremity of the distant aisle, and headed by their venerable 
superior, proceeded in procession towards the chapel. 

Then burst forth the melody of music in all its rich 
fullness, and the abbot, blessing the people as they knelt 
before him, took his station by the side of the altar. 

The service began; and even those unaccustomed to 
the Catholic rites might have soon discovered that the 
imposing spectacle was prepared to celebrate the admission 
of a novice into the community of Franciscan friars. 

And where was he, the cause of all the empty pomp 
and glittering show, by means of which converts were to 
be gained, and those already convinced of the rectitude of 
their mode of worship impressed more firmly in their 
belief ? Where was he, the man disgusted with the world, 
and so worn and wearied with its vicissitudes and cares, as 
willingly to forsake that dearest blessing, liberty, for a cowl, 
regret, and at best a living tomb ? Was he actuated by a 
pure and well defined sense of religion, to devote the 
remainder of his life to the service of his God ? Or was 
he some outcast of society, seeking, under the garb of 



THE LOST NUN. 41 

righteousness, security from the punishment justly merited 
by his crimes ? Who could answer ? What fellow mortal 
could pretend to probe the breast, and lay bare the secrets 
of that mute figure, which, standing unsupported by the 
altar — his form and features hidden by the dark habit of 
his order — merely bowed his head upon his breast, in token 
of his acceptance of the vows which shut him from the 
world for ever. 

Again, the music sent forth its loudest melody; again, 
the congregation sunk on their knees, as the holy Abbot 
and his train passed on. By degrees, the numerous tapers 
were extinguished, save here and there, those placed by 
the bigotry of superstition, as a propitiatory offering before 
a shrine ; and ere the midnight bell had tolled, not a sound 
reverberated through the aisles. 



The stream of time flowed on — seasons came and sped, 
yet unchanged by the passions of man — the face of nature 
remained the same — days glided into months, and months 



42 THE LOST NUN. 

had well nigh numbered years, since the scene I have de- 
tailed, took place. 



The Convent bell had long ceased the toll for evening 
vespers, when a friar of the Franciscan order, slowly enter- 
ing the portal of the Nunnery, betook himself, as was the 
wont of the brotherhood, to one of the penitential boxes, 
appointed for the confessions of the sisterhood ; for in the 
strict and austere order to which both the male and female 
convents pertained, it was imperative on certain of the 
friars, to attend periodically for the purpose stated ; and it 
was equally compulsory for the nuns, to seek and obtain 
absolution for their sins — the greatest of which, if truth 
were told, might possibly have been an acknowledgment of 
unlimited hatred, and overpowering disgust, towards the 
house which they were hourly compelled to pray for and 
support. 

The confessional box chosen by the brother, was in 
one of the most remote corners of the aisle ; and there, 
wrapped in his dark garb, his face enveloped by his cowl, 



THE LOST NUN. 43 

he patiently awaited any supplication for penance and par- 
don, which the fair penitents might sue for. 

Nun after nun entered the small sanctuary, and placing 
her mouth near the aperture fixed there for the purpose, 
detailed her misdemeanours, and obtained the infliction of 
penance, or the promise of grace. 

The evening was fast closing in, and the hour at which 
the holy brethren were accustomed to depart, near at 
hand ; when a nun, the last of all who lingered around, 
took the room of those who preceded her. 

" Father," exclaimed a soft silvery voice, but in so 
low a tone, as scarcely to reach the ear addressed; "father," 
she said, " is there hope for her, who, having forsworn all 
communion with the world, still clings with pertinacity 
to the recollection of hopes and joys, closed against her for 
ever — father, is there hope ?" 

A long pause succeeded the question, broken only by 
the stifled sobs of the nun, who, in seeking consolation 
through confession, appeared to dread the result which it 
might entail. 

" Father," she at length repeated, " is there hope ?" 

G 



44 THE LOST NUN. 

" Daughter," slowly responded the monk, though in a 
low and agitated tone ; " hope is denied to none." 

" Would that it were so, father," she continued ; 
" many a weary day and wretched night, have I striven 
against the feelings, which, in despite of reason, and at va- 
riance with common sense, haunt my thoughts in the 
morning, and drive slumber from my pillow in the long 
hours of darkness. Penance have I performed — vows have 
I made ; but all shrink into nothingness, and fade into air, 
when my mind rushes back to days of former happiness; 
and involuntarily I find myself contrasting what I was, 
with what I am. Father!" she murmured, in soft, yet 
broken accents — " father, I beseech you, is there hope for 
such as me ?" 

"Daughter," answered the confessor; "have I not 
already told thee, hope is denied to none ? " 

" Nay, but holy father," continued the nun, "tell me, 
and tell me truly ; should a wretch be found within these 
walls, capable of harbouring recollections, aye, and of nou- 
rishing in private those feelings which, although grafted in 
her nature, she had, since her entrance within this cloister, 



THE LOST NUN. 45 

sworn to tear by the roots from her memory, and cast 
away — should there, I repeat, breathe so contaminated a 
being within the convent, as to retain affection for parents, 
sisters, relations, and even acquaintances — tell me, father, 
is there hope?" 

"These are mere natural ties, my daughter," respond- 
ed the friar ; " and I trust there is." 

" Father ! " cried the agitated girl, " you do not un- 
derstand me ; tell me," she continued, " if any hope exists 
for her, who, having taken the sacred veil, still cherishes, 
within the dearest and most secret recesses of her heart, 
the memory of one, whom but to behold once more, she 
would gladly perform penance for ever?" 

"Mean you," faltered the monk, "a first and only 
love, for an honourable and blameless object? — or speak you 
of a mere changing affection, which a depraved mind might 
be supposed to harbour ? " 

" Oh! no, no," replied the penitent; "I speak, father, 
of him with whom I dwelt in the days of happy childhood — 
of him whom I have loved, since I was capable of appre- 



46 THE LOST NUN. 

dating the kindness of any one — of him, from whom I have 
been forcibly torn ; and of him, whom were I permitted to 
gaze on again, were it but for an instant, I would abide by 
in life or death, and never, never part from more." 

" His name ? " eagerly demanded the monk. 

For an instant the voice of confession was hushed; the 
beating of her agitated heart was plainly audible, as it pal- 
pitated against her bosom; and the fast falling tears of 
sorrow, rapidly coursed each other down her wan, yet 
lovely cheek — still she replied not. 

" Name him," again exclaimed the confessor, in tones 
scarcely less agitated than those of his penitent ; " as you 
hope for mercy, name him." 

" Silvano," was the nearly inaudible reply that es- 
caped the lips of the sufferer. 

"Have then thy wish, Alitea," softly whispered the 
monk ; " the hour, the blessed hour has at last arrived, — 
that hour for which I have sacrificed all here, and perhaps 
all hereafter ; but that hour has come, and it is mine — all 
mine. Again we meet — again I hear the dulcet tones of 



THE LOST NUN. 47 

your loved voice, and from henceforth, be it in life or 
death, Alitea, we part no more." 



Once more we change the scene, (continued Osborne,) 
and this time I must convey you to the quay, or place 
where, in those days, all persons having business or traffic 
by sea, were accustomed to congregate. 

There were numerous boats and galleys of all nations 
on the broad expanse of water ; some moving gaily forward, 
under a heavy press of sail, while others, yet unprepared 
for their departure, remained riding smoothly and in secu- 
rity at anchor. 

To the eye of a casual observer, nothing remarkable 
would have been noticed in the tacking and manoeuvring 
of the various vessels, either leaving or endeavouring to 
reach their anchorage ; yet the practised glance of a sailor 
— and there were others on the quay, who, though not 
sailors, remarked it as closely — might have discerned one 
galley, bearing the English flag, whose short tacks and 
apparent determination to hug the land, denoted that either 



48 THE LOST NUN. 

her cargo or passengers were not all embarked ; and that 
some communication was yet expected from the shore, 
which had not hitherto been made. 

There were many groups loitering about ; some occu- 
pied in stowing away provisions, to be conveyed to their 
vessels in the bay ; others, having but just arrived from some 
far distant port, were returning the congratulations of their 
friends ; and many, having neither business to occupy their 
leisure, nor ingenuity otherwise to consume their time, 
lounged listlessly among the mariners, listening — as is 
often the case even in the present day — to the detail of 
matters wholly unconnected with, and irrelevant to them- 
selves. 

" Walk boldly, and let the broad feather of your 
hat droop over your face," softly whispered a person, 
dressed as an English merchant, to the companion by his 
side, arrayed in an exactly similar garb. " Cheer up, my 
beloved Alitea," he continued, though in a low modulated 
key ; " all proceeds as our most sanguine wishes could 
desire. Nay, nay," he added, feeling the slight figure 
tremble on his arm ; " the worst — the greatest part of our 



t 

THE LOST NUN. 49 

enterprize is achieved; and now we are on the verge of 
success, for the love of Heaven, Alitea, rouse up all 
your noble energies in our behalf, or we are lost for 
ever! 

" Silvano," replied the nun, for in that disguise the fair 
creature staked her very life for escape, " Silvano, I will, 
I will do all you wish ; but, oh ! how my heart throbs, as 
each of the rough beings around, casts their scrutinizing 
glances on our dress." - 

" Heed them not, my beloved Alitea," answered her 
friend, assuming an air of confidence which he was far from 
feeling. " Two days have already elapsed since our escape; 
and the ease with which we have baffled all trace, convinces 
me that, if pursued at all, the parties seek us far beyond 
the Rock. But we lose time — here should be the gallant 
fisherman, who has engaged to carry us in his vessel, far, 
far away, from all oppression, to the land of liberty and 
love, which, please the Virgin, we shall soon behold." 

" Would to Heaven that it were so !" faintly responded 
his companion ; " but I feel, though I not know why, a 
horrible, a dreadful presentiment of evil, which nothing 



50 THE LOST NUN. 

can shake off, until I reach the land of safety you so often 
speak of." 

" Reach it !" rapturously exclaimed the other ; " we 
shall reach it, and that ere long ; and see, there tacks the 
noble galley that will carry us to our future home; and 
look, my adored Alitea," he added, in a lower tone ; " they 
recognize the signal, and a boat shoves off to our relief." 

The only reply which the fair nun offered to her com- 
panion's remark, was a gentle pressure of his arm ; and 
eagerly the two figures kept their eyes rivetted on the 
small skiff, as rapidly it decreased the distance between 
itself and the land. The boat was pulled by two men 
only, and in brief time their oars were backed within a few 
yards of the shore. 

" Nearer — nearer !" exclaimed the elder of the appa- 
rent merchants. " In the name of Heaven, why stop you 
there ? Two more strokes of the oar, and your shallop 
will touch the land." 

" The water is too shallow for a nearer approach," 
replied one of the men addressed, in a gruff, husky voice. 
" Would you have us stave the boat in ? It can't be 



THE LOST NUN. 51 

done !" and with a dogged air of indifference, he rested on 
his oar, as if determined to abide by his own decision. 

" Say you so, senor ?" cried the first speaker, fiercely; 
and, seizing a coil of rope appended to the quay, he 
sprung at once towards the skiff, with the determination of 
instantly hauling her towards the shore, for the easier 
reception of his friend. 

It was a bold and daring spring ; yet the limbs of the 
adventurer were firm, and the glance of his quick eye cor- 
rect, as, collecting his energies, his foot left the marble 
pavement of the quay, and in an instant pressed the gun- 
wale of the boat. The goal was gained, but for an instant 
only; for scarcely had the pressure of his weight been 
added to the frail vessel, when, as if by an imperceptible 
guidance, she shot rapidly ahead, and the gallant merchant, 
unavoidably losing his balance, was hurled into the strongest 
part of the current. 

A piercing shriek from the shore responded to the 
gurgle of the rippling eddy, as the sullen waters closed 
over the head of their victim. 

" Holy Virgin !" exclaimed the sufferer, in an agony 

H 



52 THE LOST NUN. 

of terror, her outstretched arms pointing to the spot where 
the form of her only friend had disappeared ; " holy 
Virgin, we shall meet no more !" 

" No more, Alitea !" hoarsely repeated a voice, in a 
hollow and unearthly tone, " no more." And ere the 
unfortunate girl could turn her head in the direction whence 
the sound proceeded, a dark mantle was cast over her 
person; and the dreaded appearance of two familiars of 
the Inquisition effectually checked all attempts at rescue, 
which the first impulse of the bystanders prompted them 
to offer in her behalf. 

Again the discordant voice broke on the ear of the 
almost unconscious prisoner. " Alitea," it commenced, 
in accents nearly choked with passion, " Alitea, my sister, 
well have you prophesied, indeed ; but little dreamt you 
then of the fulfilment of the augury. As you predicted, 
we have met again — and fatal will that meeting prove to 
one, perhaps to both. Ran not the words thus ? To one," 
he continued, muttering through his clenched teeth, " to 
one, our meeting has already ushered in destruction; to 
which of us two it may prove fatal, I leave you to propound. 



THE LOST NUN. 53 

Your words have in dread reality come to pass. We have 
here met for the last time on earth ; and for the last time — 
we part." 

The voice ceased, and the wretched Alitea, borne 
along by the myrmidons of tyrannical power, found a tem- 
porary relief from her miseries in a brief oblivion of 
existence. 

Cowed, and in silence, each man resumed his inter- 
rupted labour ; and none were hardy enough to recur to 
the circumstance, far less had they courage to track the 
blood-hounds to their lair. 

That night, from the garden of the Convent of Friars, 
lights were seen issuing from many a dark nook of the 
building, and passing from corridor to corridor, with a 
haste betokening some unusual and important event ; the 
heavy bell was said to have tolled the death-knell at the 
midnight hour, but none dared speak openly on the 
subject ; and soon the story of Alitea de Lucerna passed 
away from the recollection of the crowd. 



54 THE LOST NUN. 

" Is nothing further known of her ultimate fate ?" 
enquired Delacy. 

" Not to a certainty," replied his friend; "but attend 
to what follows." 



" It was early in the summer of last year," continued 
the narrator, " when repairing some pavement in the hall, 
which has already been mentioned as having formed part 
of the chapel aisle belonging to the convent, and which, 
moreover, was afterwards converted into the banquetting 
room of the Governor's house, that the workmen so em- 
ployed dug up the remains of a skeleton, laid within two 
or three feet of the surface of the ground. It proved to 
be the bones of a female ; and the only other relic found 
on the spot, was a small iron crucifix, such as the nuns 
are reported to have worn in the days I treat of. 



THE LOST NUN. 55 

" Well !" eagerly exclaimed Fairlie. 
" Well !" quietly reechoed Osborne ; " what would 
you more ?" 

" And was the mystery attached to her captivity never 
solved ?" asked Delacy. 

" Never !" replied his friend ; " but is it not more 
than probable that the site whereon the skeleton was found, 
formed the place of execution and sepulchre of 



'THE LOST NUN.'" 



56 A SONG. 

" Well, Osborne," observed Fairlie, smiling, " after 
that story, never find fault with me for being sentimental 
and romantic, let me say or sing whatever I may. Come, 
Delacy, you seem as doleful as our matter-of-fact friend 
there. Well, well, if you will be dismal, I'll not baulk 
your bent ;' but, as a true friend, chime in with 

' The sad and melancholy mood,' 

and sing you something to accord with your present 
humour. Attend — " 



57 



THE BROKEN HEART 



ANDJLJfTIJVO 




Jt at at at at 



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fair 



and bright, And joy ous tho'. my 



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words ma}" flow Think you 



that grief 



can not know? 




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Oh many an ach__ing bo som's nigh, 



And oft a smile 



may 



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check a sigh; Tho' looks with youth and 

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beam, All dazz ling as 



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_ry dream. 




THE BROKEN HEART. 



1. 

Think you, though, my step be light, 
And all around me fair and bright, 
And joyous though my words may flow, 
Think you, grief I cannot know % 
Oh, many an aching bosom's nigh, 
And oft a smile may check a sigh ; 
Though looks with youth and beauty beam, 
Dazzling as a fairy dream. 

2. 

Think you, that amid the press 
Of laughter, joy, and loveliness, 
Care can never wield its sway, 
Chasing happiness away % 
Oh ! the fairest cheek may glow; 
Smiles may gild the festive show ; 
But they who take the foremost part 
In mirth, oft veil a broken heart. 



60 EL RIO PRIMERO. 

" Upon my word, Fairlie," retorted Osborne, good 
humouredly, as the last echo of the song died away ; 
" upon my word, you improve in your minstrelsy, and had 
you lived in the days you are so frequently referring to, 
would have made an excellent troubadour, in the train of 
some wandering knight." 

" Gramercy, gentle sir," quoth the other, with mock 
gravity ; " I trust in time to return the compliment, as re- 
gards your dismal narratives ; but at present I confess, I 
had much rather listen to a tale somewhat less lugubrious 
than your last, which, if I understand it rightly, had its 
origin out of those prolific ingredients, a savage brothei — 
perjured nun — and hypocritical monk ; who were always 
abroad at unseasonable hours, and howling forth their 
miseries in bad weather." 

" Gently, gently, Fairlie," interrupted Delacy ; " we 
must not be too hard on Osborne; that will be scarcely 
fair, after his orational exertions ; but here we are at El 
Rio Primero, and as the sun is beginning to wane, me- 
thinks it were better to retrace our steps, unless we prefer 
remaining outside the gates of the garrison for the night." 



EL RIO PRIMERO. 61 

" I second the motion decidedly," replied Osborne ; 
" but look," he continued, pointing to a corner of the shed 
attached to the Venta ; " I marvel much, how that heap of 
shot got here." 

"Know you not the tale appertaining thereto?" en- 
quired Fairlie. 

" Not I." 

" Nor I, neither !" added Delacy ; " What is it ? " 

"Excellent, excellent, truly," laughed the other; "so 
now I am expected to enact the part of Feramoz in Lalla 
Rookh, and not only sing my simple lay, but spin my 
verses into an interminable narrative. That would be en- 
croaching on Osborne's prerogative, indeed." 

" Never mind my prerogative," replied the officer 
alluded to ; " you need give yourself little trouble on that 
head, my friend, so you but relate the story." 

" Willingly," was the answer, " provided you turn 
your horse's head homeward, instead of gazing on those 
rusty round shot, as if you contemplated the transfer of 
two at least into each of your coat pockets." 

" Nay, man, come along ; and now gentlemen, pay due 

i 



62 EL RIO PRIMERO. 

attention; though I should first apprise you, I have neither 
a monk to drown, nor a sister to bury, nor any of Osborne's 
dramatis personce at hand, to enhance the marvellous ; 
mine is but the detail of an occurrence, which in our pro- 
fession, comes to pass frequently enough ; but the chief 
recommendation it possesses, rests on its veracity." 

" Of that," exclaimed his companions, "we shall here- 
after be better able to judge ; but pending our decision — 
proceed." 

Fairlie intimated his acquiescence, and commenced 
the brief memoir of 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 



I know not whether you do know, but if not, you 
both ought to know, that on the 21st of October, 1836, to 
the great horror of the affrighted neighbours, the Carlist 
chief, Gomez, made his appearance at Saint Roque, at the 
head of six or seven thousand men. 

The consternation which his visit created among the 
Christinos, was truly appalling. The town of Algeziras 
became in great part deserted; the inhabitants of Los 
Barrios packed up their goods and fled; Gaucin, Cas- 
tellar, and St. Roque, poured forth their populations ; and 



64 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

all flocked to one common rendezvous for security, under 
the walls of Gibraltar. 

It is not my purpose here, to describe the immense 
concourse of persons, of both sexes, and all descriptions, 
who made their appearance at the Lines, many having fled 
from their homes, without providing in any way against 
the inconveniences and privations to which so great a panic 
inevitably subjected them. Animals laden with cumbrous 
articles of furniture, and packages of every description, 
were to be seen in abundance ; but blankets, tents, culi- 
nary utensils, or whatever might be serviceable, under such 
deplorable circumstances, were either neglected or for- 
gotten. 

The impossibility of admitting all these persons within 
the fortress, may well be conceived ; and in truth, such 
was the immense influx of families momentarily arriving, 
that the Governor deemed it necessary to take steps for 
the prevention of further encroachment. 

What description of treatment the people expected to 
receive at the hands of Gomez and his troops, may be 
gathered from the sensation of terror preceding his arrival, 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 65 

the absurdity of which, was speedily placed beyond a 
doubt, when at length, the Carlist chieftain and his army, 
made their much dreaded appearance. 

On the 21st of October, Gomez was at St. Roque ; 
and about mid-day, Sir Alexander Woodford despatched 
an aid-de-camp, with instructions to obtain, if possible, an 
interview with the Spanish general, and there deliver his 
Excellency's communication in person. 

What farther orders the aid-de-camp may have re- 
ceived, or what the tenor of the subject to be conveyed 
might have been, I cannot pretend to opine ; all I know of 
the matter is from the officer so employed, and from whom 
I gathered the facts which I now relate. 

Having made himself fully acquainted with the nature 
of the duty expected, my friend sprung on his horse, and 
to the great horror of the Spaniards who beheld him, gal- 
loped in a direct line to where they deemed certain and 
unavoidable destruction awaited his coming. 

The morning was cool, and the air peculiarly bracing 
and refreshing, as, pursuing his way, he soon left Campo in 
the distance, and in high spirits, guided his steed towards 
St. Roque. 



66 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

In a very short period, he fell in with the advanced 
picquets and videttes, by some of the former of which he 
was conducted to within half a mile of the town, when he 
was handed over to the charge of a troop of lancers, 
formed across the high road. 

The enquiries to which he was of course subjected, 
were couched in a peculiarly civil and courteous strain ; 
nor was it long ere he discovered that instead of being the 
bearer of despatches to a horde of ruffians, he was suddenly 
cast among a set of men as civilized and pointedly polite, 
as he might have expected to have met at the most refined 
tertulia in Madrid. 

The usual preliminaries having been observed, an 
extremely handsome young officer advanced from the centre 
of his troop ; and saluting the Englishman, heard, in reply 
to his queries, that it was the aid-de-camp's desire to be 
conducted forthwith to General Gomez. 

No sooner was the wish made known, than giving 
some necessary orders to his men, the Spaniard offered in 
person to escort my friend to the quarters of his General; 
which act of courtesy was of course readily accepted, and 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 67 

together the two young men bent their way towards the 
town. 

As they rode leisurely along, the British officer had 
full opportunity narrowly to observe his companion ; nor 
could he avoid being struck with the handsome and 
soldierlike appearance which his extreme youth greatly 
enhanced. 

His age might have been about nineteen or twenty. 
He had the full, dark, intellectual eye of his race, the clear 
olive complexion, the firmly knit limbs, and slender waist of 
his countrymen ; and above all, that pleasing expression of 
countenance, which more than half conveys the meaning 
of the sentence, which a dulcet and melodious voice may 
give utterance to. 

His dress, though widely dissimilar to that of the 
Lancer of our own land, was well adapted for service, and 
certainly less cumbersome in ornament, as it was decidedly 
inferior in cost. 

Instead of the square-topped Polish cap, embellished 
with its drooping plume and gay embroidery, he wore a 
high chaco, cased in oilskin, and divested of any superfluous 



68 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

appendage whatever. The jacket was of dark green, faced 
with the national colour of Spain — yellow; and the red 
overalls, strapped with leather, and fastened from the 
waist down to the instep with small silver buttons, consti- 
tuted his plain, yet soldierlike costume. His arms were 
simply pistols and a sword ; and the spirited white horse 
which he bestrode, and the excellent condition in which he 
appeared, spoke greatly in favour of the judgment of the 
owner, and the care with which his mute companion was 
tendered. 

" You have been in this part of Spain before ?" en- 
quiringly asked the Englishman, anxious for a further 
acquaintance with his new companion ; " you have pro- 
bably visited this neighbourhood frequently, and conse- 
quently look for little novelty on this occasion ?" 

" Pardon me," replied the lancer, in a gentlemanlike 
tone, and with a manner so winning and unobtrusive, that 
it could not fail to please. " Indeed, I never had that 
pleasure until now ; and much I wish," he added, with 
somewhat approaching to a sigh, " that my first appear- 
ance in Andalusia might have been effected in a more 
peaceable guise." 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 69 

To this of course the aid-de-camp offered no remark, 
since a soldier on duty is about the last person in the 
universe who should enter on a political discussion. 

" Do you remain long at St. Roque ?" enquired my 
friend, casually. 

" My general can best reply to that question," was 
the somewhat caustic answer ; and uttered in a dry tone, 
with the visible intention of checking all similar enquiries. 

" Excuse my forgetfulness," instantly exclaimed the 
other, on perceiving the erroneous motive which the young 
lancer attributed to him ; " the question I just hazarded, 
was meant solely in reference to the opportunities which 
a long sojourn here might afford for exploring the country; 
and I assure you there are many spots well worth visiting, 
within an hour's gallop of your quarters." 

The short explanation was readily accepted, and the 
Spaniard continued : — 

" I have always had a great wish to see Algeziras— 
not that I expect much gratification from beholding the 
town, as I conjecture it must be somewhat allied in appear- 
ance to that of other Spanish places in the same scale ; but 

K 



70 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

it so chances that I have acquaintances, or at least an 
acquaintance ;" and here there arose a slight tremor in his 
voice, which the occasion scarce seemed to warrant ; "I 
have an acquaintance dwelling at present in the town, 
whom it would indeed much delight me to see again." 

And thus saying, the young officer stooped, as if to 
adjust a buckle of his bridle, and possibly to hide some 
slight confusion, as the said buckle appeared to his com- 
panion to be placed in exactly its proper position. 

My friend, the aid-de-camp, was no novice in the 
mysteries of the tender passion, having suffered very 
considerably in his own person, on more occasions than 
one ; all which embarrassments arose, as he candidly in- 
formed me, from the excessive susceptibility of his heart, 
and his unbounded devotion to the gentler and more per- 
fect sex. 

Thus initiated, it required no deep penetration on 
his part, to arrive at the conclusion, that the handsome 
lancer was already encircled by those meshes which, of 
all others, are the most difficult to escape from ; and the 
supposition that his new acquaintance might prove as easy 



c 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 71 

of capture as had often been his own case, considerably 
enhanced his interest in the person beside him. 

The subject thus fairly started, the Englishman 
resolved to follow up his attack ; and having made two or 
three remarks relative to the beauty of the Spanish ladies, 
and of those in Algeziras in particular, dashed boldly at 
his object. 

" Will you favour me with the name of your friend?" 
he inquired, carelessly ; " for knowing many families in 
this neighbourhood, I can probably afford some information 
regarding your acquaintance." 

What the reply might have been, conjecture alone 
may solve; for whether the gentleman addressed could 
not, or would not answer, none can tell ; certain, however, 
is it, that not a syllable escaped his lips; which, by the 
bye, is the less singular, since, at that instant, the obnoxious 
buckle became so exceedingly refractory, as to engage his 
whole attention in replacing it in its accustomed position ; 
and by the time he had satisfactorily readjusted his reins, 
so long a period had elapsed since the question was asked, 
that he seemed to consider it unnecessary to prosecute the 
matter further. 



72 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

The two officers now entered St. Roque, and passing 
the main street, reached a house by no means conspicuous 
for its superiority over those in other and better parts of 
the town, but in which the aid-de-camp was informed that 
Gomez resided : accordingly, they dismounted forthwith, 
and having entered the building, in a few moments stood 
in the presence of the Carlist chief. 

Never man was more surprized than was our young 
soldier, when, instead of the brigand captain, armed to the 
teeth with offensive and defensive weapons of every descrip- 
tion, he gazed on a prepossessing countenance, bespeaking 
a heart more attuned to kindness than to acts of savage 
cruelty. His dress was extremely simple ; fire arms, knife, 
or sabre— if indeed he wore any — were invisible. His 
whole appearance more betokened a good-humoured 
English farmer than a powerful leader ; and to complete 
the sketch, the children of the house were playing unre- 
proved at his foot, and unchecked by a single angry 
expression, treated him as unceremoniously as they would 
have conducted themselves towards any of their own 
family. 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 73 

The English officer was cordially received, and on his 
business being made known, Gomez instantly professed his 
willingness to enter on the subject. What that subject 
was, (again said Fairlie, interrupting the thread of his 
narrative,) of course I know not; but whether satis- 
factory to the chief or otherwise, he maintained the same 
placidity of features, after the communication had been 
made, which he pourtrayed at the commencement of the 
interview. 

The political conference over, Gomez introduced the 
English officer to his staff, among whom the young lancer 
occupied a distinguished place. 

Coffee and cigars, the greatest compliment a Spaniard 
can offer, were handed round, and conversation assumed a 
general and most agreeable tone. 

Nothing whatever was introduced, having the most 
distant allusion to politics ; in fact, the officers assembled, 
taking their cue from the chief, appeared anxious with one 
accord, to avoid all reference to a subject, which for many 
reasons, might prove distasteful to both parties. The con- 
versation referred chiefly to the adjacent localities, and 



74 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

many were the enquiries demanded of the aid-de-camp, 
relative to Algeziras; and the laughing glance from the 
eyes of the Spanish officers, on such occasions, invariably 
directed towards the lancer, convinced the Englishman, 
that more persons were in the secret of his attachment, 
than himself. 

Thus occupied, time wore away, and so fast flew the 
minutes, that at length, my friend's watch warned him to 
depart. 

He had just risen for the purpose of thanking Gomez 
for his hospitable reception, when a cannon shot, rever- 
berating in the distance, seemed greatly to astonish all 
present. 

A dead silence immediately ensued, which was as 
speedily broken by another, and another report. 

" From what direction come those shots ? " enquired 
Gomez, of an officer, standing immediately beside him. 

" From the direction of Algeziras, senor, if I mistake 
not," was the reply. 

The aid-de-camp glanced at the countenance of the 
young lancer, and evidently there was a magic in the name 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 75 

of Algeziras, which seemed most wondrously to affect the 
expression of his features. 

"Has the detachment yet moved?" again asked the 

chief. 

" Two hours back, senor," was the response. 

In that case," replied the Carlist general, " it must be 
the gun boats firing at the men, while marching along the 
beach, towards the town ; some one ride and ascertain." 

Scarcely had the words passed his lips, and before 
any other of his staff could well reply, the lancer, pressing 
forward, voluntarily took the duty on himself. 

As he made his request, I again perceived a good- 
humoured smile pass over the sun-burnt features of nearly 
every officer present; and the kind-natured Gomez himself, 
could not wholly suppress a laugh at the young man's 
earnestness. 

Why, they were all so much amused at his predilec- 
tion for Algeziras, gentlemen, (said Fairlie,) I know as 
little as yourselves, but the attraction must have been 
powerful, let it have arisen from what source it may. 

" Remember," remarked Gomez, when delivering his 



76 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

orders ; " remember, I send you merely to ascertain what 
is going on between this and Algeziras — there will be no 
occasion for your prosecuting your researches so far as the 
town itself — you understand me, I doubt not." When, 
bowing, as if in testimony of obedience to his chief's com- 
mands, the young soldier turned to depart. 

As he was leaving the room, an involuntary feeling, 
for which my friend afterwards vainly endeavoured to 
account, induced him to advance towards his new acquaint- 
ance, and frankly proffer his hand, which was instantly 
grasped by the other, with the warm cordiality of a soldier. 

"Farewell," said the Englishman, smiling; "and don't 
forget," he added, with an arch expression, tending to 
impress on the Spaniard, his perfect knowledge of his 
secret ; " don't forget General Gomez's order, not to go to 
Algeziras." 

" Certainly not," was the reply ; and uttering his fare- 
well, accompanied by a laugh, and a heightened colour, 
which in a lady, might have been denominated a blush, he 
sprung to his saddle, and his gallant horse bore him from 
the sight in an instant. 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 77 

The party thus left, seemed little to relish the report 
of cannon shots, which were now frequently and clearly 
audible ; and feeling that his presence among them must 
necessarily in a great measure check the conversation of 
the group, the Englishman at length departed. 

Gomez, in person, saw him to the door of the man- 
sion, where his horse and trumpeter awaited his return, 
together with an escort of Carlist lancers, for the purpose 
of accompanying him on his road. 

As they neared the seaside, the Englishman naturally 
turned his head in the direction from whence the firing 
proceeded, and then beheld, not only the Spanish gun- 
boats, but also an English vessel, firing upon a detach- 
ment of Carlists, who, en route to Algeziras, and not 
dreaming of any opposition being offered, were leisurely 
pursuing their march by the beach. 

This anything but friendly salute, however, roughly 
awoke them from their dream of security; and turning 
suddenly to the right, they continued their progress under 
shelter of the numerous sandhills around. 

L 



78 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

From the spot where the aid-de-camp then stood, he 
dismissed the lancers, and for a time, remained gazing on 
the boats beneath him. 

The firing had wholly ceased, and no vestige could be 
discerned of the attack, save the cloud of white smoke, as 
it hovered over the scene of action. 

Nothing further of note was visible, so turning his 
horse's head, he slowly pursued his way towards the lines. 

"There is a party of troops between us and the town, 
sir," hastily exclaimed the trumpeter to his officer, on 
seeing a small body approaching. 

Thus recalled from his reverie, my friend strained 
his sight towards the spot indicated, when the truth of the 
trumpeter's report was made manifest. 

" They seem to be carrying something between them, 
sir," was the next remark. 

" True," rejoined the officer ; " but as we bear a flag 
of truce, and moreover, have Gomez's pass, we shall in- 
disputably remain unmolested; therefore, put spurs to your 
horse, and follow :" and instantly setting the example, he 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 79 

pressed the gallant animal he bestrode, with his sharp heel, 
and in a few seconds, reached the party in question. 

Hastily reining in his steed, he was about to address 
the person apparently in command, when the sight which 
met his eye, precluded the necessity of seeking any verbal 
information. 

Bitterly he then repented his uncalled for inter- 
ference, since his presence could avail nothing ; neither 
could the recollection of what he beheld, pass from his 
memory for months. 

In the centre of a small body of infantry, borne by 
six men, and wrapped in a blanket, lay all that remained 
of the handsome lancer, who, but a short half hour since, 
elate with joy and spirits, had pressed him by the hand, 
and in the common parlance of the world, uttered his 
"farewell." Poor fellow, he little knew it would be the 
last farewell his lips were ever doomed to breathe. 

The countenance of the young soldier was deadly 
pale; and nothing, save the unearthly brilliancy of the 
eye, whose restless glances bore testimony of his acute suf- 



80 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

fering, forbade the supposition that his companions gazed 
upon a corpse. 

He appeared unconscious of everything passing 
around — the sense of suffering, in due time, seemed to 
have left him : his face momentarily assumed a more pallid 
hue, while the small black moustache — the pride of bud- 
ding manhood — contrasted awfully with the livid lips 
whereon it rested. 

He was evidently beyond all human aid ; and as the 
English officer, in the kindest manner, endeavoured to cool 
his marble brow with water, the spirit of the handsome 
boy, as if loath to quit so fair a tenement, for an instant 
hovered around, the expression of his eyes beaming thanks 
towards his brother soldier ; and in the following moment 
spread its wings, and quitted the mutilated form for ever. 



From what information my friend could gather on the 
spot, it appeared that of all the shots fired that day, but 



THE SPANISH LANCER. 81 

one took effect ; but that one, passing through the body of 
the noble charger I have before mentioned, shattered in 
an instant both the legs of the ill-fated youth. Medical aid 
there was none ; and all his comrades could avail in his 
behalf, was to hasten the wounded man towards St. Roque ; 
but ere the party could reach the town, the object of their 
solicitude no longer needed aid from human hands. 



" What became of the lady ?" asked Delacy ; but 
regardless of the query, Fairlie continued : — 

" When readjusting the disordered dress of the corpse, 
ere he left it for ever, my friend the aid-de-camp caught a 
glimpse of a small locket suspended on his breast. He 
could not resist the temptation to gaze on the miniature ; 
and in the delicate painting which he held in his hands, to 
his unspeakable astonishment, immediately recognised the 
features of " 



82 THE SPANISH LANCER. 

" Of whom ?" eagerly exclaimed both the other 
officers. 

" He never told me whom," drily replied Fairlie ; 
and putting spurs to his horse, crossed the drawbridge, as 
the gates were closing for the night. 



83 



OH! DO NOT BID ME LEAVE THEE 



L EJK"TO. 



p 



4=^ 



fit 



Si 



3*3 



w 



pra jtti rm rm rm ma . 



f' r nr f r r d 



g c r c 



And see... my hopes de. 



Oh! do not bid me leave.... thee 




.-cay. 



Thou knowst not how 'twill grieve me, 



To 




OH, DO NOT BID ME LEAVE THEE ! 



Oh ! do not bid me leave thee, 

And see my hopes decay ; 
Thou know'st not how 'twill grieve me, 

To tear myself away. 
Oh ! deem not, when another 

Pays homage at thy shrine, 
Thou ever wilt discover 

A love so pure as mine. 

2. 

Though smiles may beam around thee, 

And forms of brightest hue, 
And all that lures surround thee, 

Thou'lt find no breast so true. 
A child may crush a flower ; 

But can he e'er restore 
The mischief of that hour \ 

Oh, no ! it blooms — no more. 



86 martin's cave. 

" Where on earth have you been, Delacy ?" exclaimed 
Osborne, the following morning, on seeing his friend ap- 
proach in somewhat disordered dress. 

" Your question," replied the other, " is more perti- 
nent to the case than possibly you may imagine ; since not 
only have I been on the earth, but some distance in the 
earth, and, moreover, no inconsiderable depth below the 
earth, early as the hour may seem." 

" Turned geologist, I presume," chimed in Fairlie, 
who at that moment joined the party ; " and mean to 
devote the remainder of your existence to disturbing the 
ground in quest of the bones of defunct animals, and long 
since departed fishes ?" 

" Not I, indeed," answered Delacy ; " my occupations 
soar not so high." 

" Say, rather, dive not so deep," interrupted his 
friend. 

" Well, well, Fairlie," said Osborne, " be it as you 
will — high or low — it is a study which perchance may need 
wiser persons than you or me to master. But, Delacy," 
he added, " you have not yet unravelled your riddle." 



martin's cave. 87 

<c That requires but very little difficulty," was the answer ; 
" in brief, I have been taking a sketch of Martin's Cave." 

" Martin's Cave !" instantly responded Fairlie, in a 
mixed tone of surprise and pleasure ; " Martin's Cave ! 
the very head-quarters of spirits — the abode of one of the 
most powerful, and at the same time revengeful, demons 
that ever influenced the acts of men. I wish I had 
known your intention : but tell me, Delacy, did you see — 
not exactly the spirit himself, of course — but did you 
observe anything in that extraordinary spot in the slightest 
degree approaching the supernatural ?" 

" I assure you, Fairlie," laughingly answered the 
officer, " nothing met my view in the most distant manner 
indicative of the presence of the Fiend in whom you appear 
to take so lively an interest; neither, in truth, was I conscious 
that in merely entering the cave, I was trespassing upon the 
property of so powerful a gentleman : had I been aware of 
my transgression, perchance, I had been more cautious." 

" And have written a note beforehand, requesting 
permission ?" added Osborne, in the same good-humoured 
strain. 

M 



88 ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS. 

" I can assure you," interrupted Fairlie, " that how- 
ever inclined you may be to jest on the subject, and treat 
it thus lightly, the time has been, when to speak slightingly 
on the matter might have been attended with rather dis- 
agreeable consequences." 

" Come, come, Fairlie," exclaimed the other officer, 
" surely you are not going to enact the part of champion 
to his ghostship, and challenge to the death all such as 
dispute his sovereignty ?" 

" Not precisely," was the answer ; " but I trust both 
of you will allow that in all ages, and among all nations, 
the existence of supernatural beings, dwelling near the 
haunts of men, and influencing, with their magic powers, 
the affairs of mortals, has found numerous disciples, and 
gained unbounded credence from millions." 

" What then ?" enquired Osborne. 

" Why, this much," he continued ; "if you acknow- 
ledge the justness of what I have stated, let me ask if it be 
probable that a spot of ground rising as it were from the 
bosom of the ocean, in all its isolated grandeur, and 
retaining, within its deep recesses, enormous caverns and 



ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS. 89 

many a dark abyss ; some of which will, in all probability, 
remain unfathomed for ever ; is it probable, I repeat, that 
of all the known dwellings of man, a place so circumstanced 
by nature should have passed into the hands of the super- 
stitious Moor, and from them have been handed over to 
the romantic Spaniard, without claiming the interference 
of a powerful and unearthly agent, in whom was grafted 
the possibility of maturing events as might best suit his 
interest or his humour ?" 

" The sprite, or whatever his name may be, must be 
a very ungrateful Imp, if he does not feel highly flattered 
at the warmth with which you espouse his cause," remarked 
Osborne. 

" Really," replied the other, " you put me out of all 
patience with your dull matter-of-fact incredulity. Do 
you mean to dispute that such was the belief in former 
days ?" 

" / dispute it ?" rejoined Osborne, with a mock ap- 
pearance of surprise. " / dispute that in the olden time 
Spirits and Demons ran about settling the affairs of mor- 
tals ? My dear fellow, how can I presume to doubt that 



90 THE LEGEND OF 

the dark ages gave credit to such belief, when I behold so 
enlightened a person as yourself stoutly advocate the cause 
in the nineteenth century. Far be it from me to contradict 
so plausible and rational a supposition." 

" Osborne," replied Fairlie, " you are incorrigible ; 
and to hold further converse with you were worse than 
useless ; so not choosing to give up my sprite, I will fain 
address myself to Delacy, and crave his attention for a 
time." 

" I shall be delighted to listen," was the answer ; 
" and if not wholly agreeing, I promise not to interrupt 
you." 

" When the belief which Osborne holds in such deri- 
sion was prevalent," continued Fairlie, " numerous were 
the varieties of the genus in question ; for exclusive of 
Sprites, there were Gnomes, Imps, Fiends, Fairies, and 
many other classes thereunto pertaining ; but under what- 
ever denomination they nourished, each and all evinced an 
unwarrantable partiality for interference with the affairs of 
others ; and many betrayed a strong predilection for the 
blessings and luxuries distributed among men. 



THE SILVER SPRITE. 91 

" More than a single instance is recorded where a 
Sprite of excellent taste peremptorily insisted on one of 
Eve's fair daughters becoming his bride, ere he would 
exert his supernatural abilities in favour of the supplicants. 

"None will deny, that this description of Demon, far 
surpassed in civilization, their more ignoble brethren, whose 
principal delight was derived from bewitching cattle, and 
terrifying respectable old ladies, who might chance to 
cross commons, or traverse woods, at an advanced period of 
the night. 

" Having thus showed that Gibraltar was equally en- 
titled to the protection of a demon, with any other less 
remarkable place, you will probably be glad to hear, that 
the spirit here presiding, was a member of the more re- 
fined class of incorporate bodies ; and so dazzling, and 
elaborately splendid had been his appearance when deign- 
ing to honour his subjects with a visit, that he was known 
far and wide, by the appellation of 

' THE SILVER SPRITE.' 
" Tradition affirms, that beings of this description, 



92 THE SILVER SPRITE. 

though presuming to hold man in sovereign contempt, and 
consequently viewing them as immeasurably their inferiors, 
have, notwithstanding, condescended to pourtray some of 
the very worst passions of human nature; and further, 
wholly regardless of the opinions of others, have not hesi- 
tated to boast loudly of their evil propensities, and un- 
blushingly declare their bad intentions. 

" Whether the disposition of the Gibraltar Demon 
partook more of good, or of evil, the sequel of my tale 
will declare ; of one thing, however, I may inform you, 
which is, that he had a most decided partiality for his own 
opinion, and, as is often the case with very obstinate old 
gentlemen, the more indisputably he found himself in the 
wrong, the more pertinaciously determined was he in 
enforcing his point. 

" There were several dwellings, which by general con- 
sent were handed over as his abodes, rent-free; and among 
others, St. Michael's and St. Martin's caves, were supposed 
to find most favour in his sight. 

" The tutelary deity having been thus introduced, I 
commence my story of 



THE MOORISH MAID. 



From the year seven hundred and twelve, when 
Tarif Eben Zarca, a renowned Moorish general, under 
Caliph Almalid Eben Abdalmalic, took possession of 
Gibraltar, until the fourteenth century, when it fell into the 
hands of the Spaniards, during the reign of Ferdinand, 
king of Castile, the Rock remained in the undisturbed 
possession of the Saracens. 

For upwards of seven hundred years, the Moors held 
Gibraltar as their own ; but, as history proves ever to have 
been the case with all countries and nations, the period at 



94 THE MOORISH MAID. 

length arrived, when the disputed possession was to pass 
away, and fall subject to the dominion of another power. 

With a small garrison, harassed with fatigue, and 
enfeebled by famine, the young Moorish chief, for months, 
kept his enemy in check, and heedless of the superiority of 
force, and numerous advantages in favour of the beseigers, 
the unextinguished gallantry and determined valor of the 
Moors, still retained them without the walls. 

Notwithstanding the resignation and quiet submission 
with which the Saracens heard and obeyed each mandate, 
which of necessity encreased their privations; and although 
all families cheerfully added to the common stock what- 
ever they possessed, rather than yield to the power of the 
Christians, still they could not disguise from themselves, 
that unless their troops were speedily reinforced from 
Africa, and their nearly expended stores more replen- 
ished, it would be utterly impracticable to hold out much 
longer. 

Death by the spear, or in the breach, held out no 
terrors to the Moorish warriors ; but when gaunt famine, 
with her long train of miseries, stalked unchecked abroad, 



THE MOORISH MAID. 95 

and when their best and dearest were hourly falling 
around, not by the sword, but by disease, the flame of 
patriotism must have burnt brightly in the breasts of 
those, who, gazing from their battered walls, could behold 
the rich country beyond, beaming with plenty, and not 
throw open their gates, and rush to partake of the tan- 
talizing blessings. 

Yet so it was ; the last particle of substance which 
could by ingenuity be converted into food, had been dis- 
tributed — not a vestige of succour was discernible — valor 
and suffering seemed to avail nothing — hope was for the 
most part extinguished ; and the glory of the crescent, 
trembled to its base. 

Yet not a thought of capitulation harboured for an 
instant in the bosoms of Gibraltar's gallant defenders. 
There they stood, the conquerors of many a hard fought 
field ; the bravest, the most intellectual and refined race of 
the age, wasted with famine, worn by toil, but determined 
to hold good their own, while the arm of a single Moor 
had strength to wield his scimitar in defence. 

N 



96 THE MOORISH MAID. 

The sun was setting in the far west, gilding with his 
parting rays, the glittering arms, and splendid panoply of 
the besiegers, as, spread out to a great extent, their many 
coloured tents, and gorgeous pavilions, lay stretched along 
the plain, immediately beneath the Moorish Castle, the 
stronghold of the besieged. 

There was music and revelry within the camp ; mirth 
and feasting held undivided sway : for, well acquainted 
with the sufferings of the enemy, the Spaniards at length 
anticipated the speedy downfall of the Moors. The tink- 
ling of the light guitar, and echo of the castanet, were 
borne upon the air; and the busy hum of thousands, 
interrupted only by the joyous laugh or merry song, 
rose from the plains beneath, and pouring forth its 
sound, as it were in derision, round the walls that skirted 
the splendid abode of the Saracen, died away in the 
distance. 

Different, ah ! how widely different was the scene 
then pourtrayed within the chambers of that sumptuous 
palace. The clang of cymbals, and the softer melody of 
the lute, resounded not — all was hushed; and the long 



i 



THE MOORISH MAID. * 97 

marble corridors where formerly were wont to loiter many 
of the noblest who thronged the court, now spoke but of 
the step of some half-famished wretch, whose wasted form 
might be discerned gliding from spot to spot in search of a 
poor morsel wherewith to allay the horrid craving of 
hunger. 

The court was deserted — the neigh of the gallant 
chargers was hushed for ever — not an animal could be seen, 
for all had long since fallen a sacrifice to the pressing 
wants of man. 

No soldiers were visible from the ramparts — no sign 
of life could the Spaniards recognize ; and the banner of 
the Moslem, as its massive folds of gold caught the last 
glance of the setting sun, and faintly stirred with the 
breeze, seemed all that was endowed with motion within 
the dreary fortress. 

Darkness soon overspread the land, and by degrees 
the murmur of the multitude subsided, and all seemed 
wrapped in sleep ; yet occasionally the dark outline of a 
figure cased in steel, would, for an instant, obscure the red 
brilliancy of the watch-fire ; and ever and anon the heavy 



98 ' THE MOORISH MAID. 

tread of armed men, repairing to their posts, told that 
death had not as yet claimed all his victims. 

In the courts of the deserted castle, instead of hun- 
dreds of flambeaux, whose ruddy glare might almost have 
turned night into day, flickered here and there, as if about 
to expire in its loneliness, some solitary lamp half extin- 
guished in its silver cresset. In short, so dimly lighted 
were the lofty passages and splendid corridors of that 
once magnificent building, that although well accustomed 
to the precincts of the palace, it was with some apparent 
difficulty that a figure wound his way amid the numerous 
vestibules which on all sides opened into suites of gorgeous 
chambers. 

Slowly and alone the footsteps of the young warrior 
pressed the many-coloured mosaic pavement, and regardless 
of the gilded roof and enamelled pillars, which in happier 
days had been his delight to scrutinize, passed by these 
mute memorials of former grandeur, which contrasted sadly 
with the desolation around. 

It was the Moorish chieftain, one of the few brave 
spirits yet left to struggle against the overwhelming power 



THE MOORISH MAID. 99 

of the foe, and then doomed to follow his companions, and 
find rest within the narrow limits of a soldier's and an 
honourable grave. 

His arms were crossed upon his bosom ; and his head, 
cased in the silver helm, and surmounted with the lofty 
plume, drooped, as in an attitude of deep thought, upon 
his breast. He was enveloped in the many folds of the 
white haik, gracefully cast around his figure ; but his more 
than common height and boldness, spoke him a noble scion 
of the gallant house from which he sprung. 

Passing thus along — his mind evidently carrying his 
thoughts far from the spot whereon he stood — his walk 
was suddenly arrested, and as it were involuntarily, at one 
of the many casements opening upon a marble court 
below. 

The moon had by this time risen, and with her silvery 
light enhanced the beauty of all objects around. 

In the centre of the open space beneath, gushed forth 
the clear water from an enamelled fountain, refreshing with 
its diamond shower the velvet turf, which the hot noon- 
day sun had parched and darkened with his rays. 



100 THE MOORISH MAID. 

Interspersed among the elaborately carved jasper 
pillars supporting the gilded balcony from whence he 
gazed, and shedding around a delicious fragance, emanating 
from their myriads of blossoms, flowers and sweet scented 
shrubs innumerable lavished their perfume on the still 
night ; while, in the distance, its splendid dome reflecting 
back the soft rays of the moon, rose, towering above all 
other portions of the building, the golden crescent of the 
Moorish mosque. 

As the bright glance of his dark eye fell on the house 
of prayer, Kasbin appeared in an instant to recall his 
truant thoughts, and bending forward, as in the attitude of 
supplication, exclaimed aloud, 

" Spirit of my fathers ! you who now dwell in the 
land of joy — the garden of the prophet, aid me, I implore 
you, in this most dread emergency. Oh ! for a portion of 
those countless hosts, whose overpowering valour wrested 
from the hands of the Spaniard this glorious country, 
which for so many centuries we have swayed. 

" For myself, gladly would I lay down my existence, 
if, by such sacrifice, good might revert to our cause ; but, 



THE MOORISH MAID. 101 

gracious Allah !" he continued, extending his arms towards 
Heaven, " if succour be not sent us from above, from 
whence may we seek aid ? 

" It is true the Christian still clamours vainly at our 
gates, and as fruitlessly endeavours to approach with his 
unhallowed steps, the precincts of our holy mosque ; but 
for how long can aught avail against his power ? 

" The few warriors yet left to combat for our faith, 
sink from hunger and disease ; our energies are fast waning 
away; and the small strength yet remaining can but 
suffice to drag their exhausted frames to some spot, 
where in peace and quiet they may lay them down 
and die. 

" But even this, great Allah ! aye, this, and much, 
much more of evil would we willingly bear, if those, whom 
we prize far more than life, could be rescued from the 
agonies fast accumulating around us. Allah ! Allah !" he 
exclaimed, his voice almost choked with emotion, " this it 
is that unnerves our arms, and renders the bravest warrior 
but little other than a woman." 

And burying his face within his hands, the hot tears 



102 THE MOORISH MAID. 

of misery found vent down the sun-burnt visage of the 
haughty Moor. 

Overwhelmed with the reflection of the dreadful 
state to which his people were reduced, and wholly inca- 
pable of devising any method whereby to ameliorate their 
miserable condition, the young chieftain heeded not the 
light sound of a footstep, as it glided towards him ; nor 
did he appear to notice the gentle pressure of a small hand 
affectionately resting on his arm. 

" Kasbin, my beloved Kasbin !" feebly commenced a 
voice, which, musical even in that dread hour, must have 
sounded with almost magic sweetness in the days of hap- 
piness and joy ; " why weep you thus, Kasbin ? Why 
brood over our miseries ? Of what avail is it that you 
pour out your deep sorrows in lamentation ? — or rather," 
she exclaimed, in a low tone of deep dejection, " why do 
I come and thus taunt with my unavailing regrets and 
heedless enquiries, him, whom of all the world I would 
gladly sacrifice my life to save. Kasbin, my beloved 
Kasbin, speak, oh ! speak to me !" 

The young chief thus appealed to, slowly raised his 



THE MOORISH MAID. 103 

head, and passing one arm around the waist of the beau- 
tiful form of the Moorish maid, fondly pressed her to his 
aching bosom. Then turning her lovely features so as to 
gain thereon the light of the fair moon, he looked earnestly 
on her intelligent but pallid face. 

Sorrowful, yet affectionate in the extreme, was the 
expression of his fine countenance, while thus watching 
the lineaments of her, whom of all things on earth his 
heart most doted on. But what could his scrutinizing 
glance detect ? Was he doubtful of her plighted faith ? 
Did he fear the fickleness of her on whom his eyes rested ? 
Oh, no, no — far other thoughts disturbed the repose of his 
mind. The searching gaze was bent to mark the ravages 
of famine — to track each furrow prematurely stamped on 
that clear brow by the ruthless hand of hunger — nay, of 
actual starvation. The large dark eye beamed as fondly on 
him as of yore, but there was a wildness in the look, and a 
feverish anxiety in the extended pupil, well according with 
the bloodshot veins around. 

Legibly were the sufferings of that tender being, there 
written in broad characters never to be mistaken ; and too 

o 



104 THE MOORISH MAID. 

well versed in the dread study, had the Moorish chief 
become, to misinterpret for an instant the visible proofs 
before him. 

His heart was too full for utterance — he felt the utter 
impossibility of giving vent to his feelings in words — and 
what indeed could words avail ? He attempted not to 
speak — but again drawing the fair maiden towards him, 
and imprinting a kiss on her pale forehead, folded her 
within his arms, as if in that embrace he would shield 
her from every woe which might seek to penetrate her 
bosom. 

The appearance which the two beautiful figures pre- 
sented, was melancholy in the extreme. Alone, deprived 
of all the glittering splendour to which from their infancy 
they had been accustomed — divested of attendance, and 
literally in want of the common necessaries of life ; they 
stood encircled within each other's arms — their looks bent 
towards the clear Heaven, mentally imploring assistance 
from some power far superior to mortal aid. 

Blanched and wan were the countenances of both ; 
yet notwithstanding the miseries they had encountered, 



THE MOORISH MAID. 105 

and the dreadful prospect which the future seemed to hold 
forth, they appeared in that hour of wretchedness more 
touchingly interesting than when surrounded by all the 
galaxy of beauty, and voluptuous magnificence of then- 
more happy days. 

The deep silence was broken only by the gurgling 
sound of the cool water, as it descended in numerous fan- 
tastic arches, into the font below ; even the song of the 
nightingale was hushed, and nothing disturbed the quiet 
of the scene. 

" Kasbin," at length murmured the soft, yet trem- 
bling voice of the maiden ; " Kasbin, know you not, that 
one means of evading the horrors which are fast closing 
around our devoted heads, yet remains? — one step still 
exists, whereby the evil destiny which pursues us, may be 
averted ?" 

" Visna, my beloved Visna," replied the Moor; " deeply 
have I pondered over that dread and last resource, and 
strenuously have I wrestled against the temptation, prompt- 
ing me to embrace the terrific alternative ; yet how to 
combat otherwise with evil, Allah, great Allah only knows. 



106 THE MOORISH MAID. 

It is a step which, when once pursued, can never be 
retraced — a horrible compact, which once entered on, 
must be fulfilled, and seldom terminating, but in blood. 
Little, aye, little indeed, my own adored Visna, can your 
pure mind fathom the accursed conditions, on which alone 
succour from that source may be granted." 

" Nay, nay, Kasbin," was the gentle and affectionate 
reply, " why harbour such fantasies ? — 'tis true I know not, 
nor indeed heed I, what the terms may be, so that by 
their fulfilment, all I most love be restored to happiness, 
and the dark cloud of sorrow, which for so long a period 
has pressed your brow, be chased away for ever, and peace 
and happiness again become our own. " 

" Oh, that this dreadful epoch in our existence might 
be erased from our memory," exclaimed the young chief ; 
" would that it might be buried in oblivion, and willingly, 
most willingly, would I resign all recollection of bygone 
splendour, if permitted to revisit the beloved shores of our 
own country ; and with you, dearest Visna, by my side, 
wander amid those delicious groves, and shady forests, 
whose enchanting beauties, I much fear, Allah has decreed, 
no more shall meet our gaze." 



THE MOORISH MAID. 107 

" Nourish not such horrible forebodings," answered 
his companion ; " but rather turn your thoughts towards 
the only means of succour left. Why not at once invoke 
the dread Spirit of our house, and boldly claim the inter- 
cession of his powerful aid ? You see, my Kasbin," con- 
tinued the beautiful girl, with a faint attempt at playfulness 
in her tone ; " you see, Visna has yet sufficient courage to 
propose so daring an enterprise; aye, and if need," she 
added, speaking in a slower and far more serious tone, " if 
need be, firmness to demand the boon even from the 
Fiend himself." 

" Visna," mournfully replied the other, " you little 
know the danger you would thus voluntarily court. Cen- 
turies have followed centuries since our fathers sought and 
obtained the superhuman interference of the Silver Sprite, 
and dearly was that assistance purchased : for the myste- 
rious being of whom we speak, has never granted a petition 
without demanding some awful sacrifice in return." 

" But what sacrifice could be demanded, which would 
not readily be granted," replied Visna, " if we be but 
freed from the thraldom of the Christian ? What can be 



108 THE MOORISH MAID. 

claimed at our hands, that we should basely hesitate to 
grant, in order to insure so vast a blessing ?" „ 

" You know not what you utter, JVisna," groaned 
her companion, with a shudder; and, turning from the 
lovely form beside him, leant for support against the 
sculptured balustrade. 

" Nay, nay, my own loved Kasbin !" cried the terrified 
girl, on beholding the deadly paleness that instantly over- 
spread his features. " For the love of Allah, look not thus 
so hopelessly wretched. All, everything of evil can I 
patiently suffer, save to see you thus so utterly miserable : 
and look," she continued, in the winning accent of entreaty, 
and directing his attention to the fountain beneath ; " but 
an instant back, Kasbin, and not another living thing, save 
ourselves, appeared to breathe within these all but deserted 
walls ; yet now behold that small, timid bird, laving his 
bright plumage in the clear stream, and uttering his sweet 
melodious note, as if sent from some far and lovely region, 
to bid us hope, and tender promise of a happier future." 

" Would that, in like manner, I could read the omen, 
dearest Visna ; but, to my interpretation," interrupted the 



THE MOORISH MAID. 109 

young Moor, "it betokens rather the last farewell of a 
bright and heavenly vision, which, ere torn from us for ever, 
assumes a more enchanting and endearing form ; and see, 
Visna," he added, drawing the trembling maid towards him, 
" even now he spreads forth his glossy wings, and rising 
from the marble font, soars upwards, far beyond the sight, 
and leaves us here to desolation and death." 

" Why still linger on the darkest side of the prospect 
before us,Kasbin ?" was the immediate reply. " You speak 
of the power of the dread Spirit, and repeat the received 
tradition, that never has he aided mortal, without demand- 
ing tenfold recompense. Yet, what further add the tales 
which have been handed down for ages upon ages past ? 
Is there not some alleviation from the doom ?" 

" Full well I know," answered Kasbin, " if those who 
demand the boon, be pure and free from wickedness, and 
if, moreover, the assistance sought be not for the gratifica- 
tion of evil purposes, little will the threats of the Spirit 
avail to work them personal harm. Yet there is much, 
much that may be demanded, my dearest Visna, which 
rather than grant But come, come, my beloved," he 



110 THE MOORISH MAID. 

added, suddenly discontinuing the subject, " the cold air 
suits but little with your fragile frame. Let us to the 
Mosque, and there pray for aid and assistance to support 
us under this dreadful calamity." 

" Willingly," she replied ; " and if I point out good 
reason why you should avail yourself of the only chance 
of extrication from our difficulties, which the Prophet has 
placed within our reach, will you promise to embrace it ?" 

" And seek assistance from the Silver Sprite, Visna ?" 

" Aye !" was the response ; " for my sake, your own, 
and for that of all your people, Kasbin, my own loved 
Kasbin, promise me but this — " 

" Then be it as you will, Visna ; but Allah forbid that 
my horrible anticipations should be realized !" 

And placing his arm around the slender waist of the 
lovely girl, he supported her trembling steps towards the 
Mosque. 



Day had not yet dawned, when, enveloped in their 
white haiks, the Moorish chieftain and his beloved compa- 



THE MOORISH MAID. Ill 

nion threaded the mazes of their princely halls ; and 
issuing forth upon the hill, slowly bent their way towards 
the eastern side of the Rock. 

The moon was yet sufficiently in the ascendant, to 
cast the long dark shadows of the cypress across the path 
of the wanderers, and guide their steps as they traversed 
the dangerous and uneven road that led to their desti- 
nation. 

Not a syllable did either utter, as their feeble footsteps 
pressed the many flowers which, on every side, breathed 
fragrance around. Their minds were too full of painful 
associations, to give vent to their misery in words. How 
often together had they wandered, in joyous glee, over 
the very ground which now they paced with so dejected a 
mien ? How often, from the many shrubs and numerous 
plants which lay crushed beneath their tread, had Kasbin, 
in the hours of happiness, woven the sweet-scented gar- 
land with which, in playfulness, he decked the luxuriant 
tresses of his Moorish maid ? From the very spot where 
they then stood, often had they gazed in rapture on the 
glorious beauties of the setting sun. Not a portion of 

p 



112 THE MOORISH MAID. 

that small territory had they explored together, but was 
indelibly stamped on the recollection of each, by some 
delightful association of happiness too superlatively blessed 
to last. And now — but who can describe the many and 
conflicting feelings which agitated their bosoms in that 
hour, when all they prized, when every hope, which since 
infancy they had cherished, was fast fleeting away ? All 
— all appeared lost ; and yet they clung to each other's 
love more firmly than ever ; and at that period when death, 
confronting them as it were with his hideous aspect, 
waited impatiently for his prey, the best, the noblest 
affections of our nature twined themselves more firmly 
around their young hearts ; and whatever evil Fate might 
yet determine to pour upon their devoted heads, so that 
they encountered adversity together, they felt the worst 
was shorn of more than half its terrors. 



" If your resolution fail you, Visna," uttered Kasbin, 
in a hoarse and hollow tone, " if you regret the step 



THE MOORISH MAID. 113 

you have thus taken, there is yet time to retrace our 
way ? 

" My determination remains unshaken," she replied ; 
and together they reached the entrance of the cavern. 

The situation of the aperture beneath the Mediter- 
ranean stairs is, at this day, difficult of access, and much 
less frequently visited than the more generally known 
excavation recognised by the Spaniards as Saint George's, 
and by the English, as Saint Michael's Cave ; and what 
means of approach the ingenuity of the eighth century 
may have supplied, remains unknown ; but relics which, at 
various periods, have been there found, indisputably bear 
testimony that its existence had been ascertained even in 
those far distant days. 

The entrance to St. Martin's Cave is not at all calcu- 
lated to attract the attention of a casual observer, but if 
explored, will well repay the trouble. 

An immense quantity of rough and shattered par- 
ticles of the rock first meets the eye, which, when crossed, 
the interior of the cave, in* all its fairy beauty, stands 
revealed. 



114 THE MOORISH MAID. 

To view it in perfection, a sufficient number of flam- 
beaux should be placed in various directions, thoroughly to 
illuminate the most extraordinary appearance of the inte- 
rior. In short, when lit up, the coup-d'ceil more resembles 
one of those brilliant pantomime scenes, which the genius 
of Stanfield alone can pourtray, than anything which ima- 
gination can figure as in reality existing. 

The roof, covered with a most beautiful frothy sub- 
stance, reflecting from myriads of shining flakes, the 
lights exposed, and being of a glittering whiteness, seems 
as a canopy of burnished silver, from whence beam forth 
stars innumerable. 

The splendid ceiling is supported by irregular stalac- 
tites of various sizes ; and the almost countless petrifac- 
tions, rising into dazzling pinnacles of all altitudes, may 
well persuade the looker-on that he then gazes on a magic 
scene. 

In the centre of this spot, unruffled by a breeze, 
reposes a small lake of the purest water, and clear as crys- 
tal, and well harmonizing with the beauties by which it is 
surrounded. The very shores whereby its tiny waves are 



THE MOORISH MAID. 115 

bound, partake of the same silvery hue already described ; 
and though far from equalling St. Michael's cave in gran- 
deur and size, it greatly excells all others in the brilliant 
loveliness of its form, and glittering splendour of the sub- 
stance with which nature has so lavishly clothed her 
favourite. 



By the foot of that clear water, stood the handsome 
form of the young chieftain, while by his side, and clinging 
to him for support, the almost fainting maiden prepared to 
undergo the horrors of the forthcoming scene. All was 
utter darkness, and silent as the precincts of the grave, 
until Kasbin, pressing Visna yet closer to his heart, uttered 
aloud the spell, which for centuries had been handed 
down, as the potent charm, whereby to summon to assist- 
ance, the being of another world. 

Scarcely had the echo of his voice died away, amid 
the thousand pinnacles of the spot, than, issuing from the 
centre of the lake, a lambent flame spread its influence far 



116 THE MOORISH MAID. 

and wide, and in an instant illuminated the whole ; and 
thus, from intense darkness, each crevice of the excavation 
stood forth, revealed as though under the influence of the 
broad glare of day. 

"Kasbin," faintly gasped the fair creature by his side; 
and following the direction of her starting eyeballs, he 
beheld the spirit he had dared to summon. 

At the further end of the cavern, one hand resting on 
a portion of the crystallized substance of which all was 
composed, and glittering in the shining vesture which had 
long since obtained for him the appellation of the Silver 
Sprite, the dreaded Spirit of their house stood revealed. 
The visor of his casque was down, so as wholly to conceal 
his features; and although his outward bearing was formed 
in perfect and most faultless shape, an instinctive consci- 
ousness of supernatural presence, made the frame of mortal 
shudder at its approach. 

Well did the Moorish cheiftain know that now or 
never must his supplication be uttered; for human eye had 
never dwelt on that dread countenance but for a brief 
period, and that only when the compact entered into was 



THE MOORISH MAID. 



117 



sealed; therefore mastering his more infirm nature, he 
boldly demanded the succour of which himself and those 
he loved stood so much in need. 

A pause but of a few seconds succeeded, when raising 
himself from his recumbent position, and stretching forth 
his arm towards the two mortals before him, the Spirit 
uttered, in a loud unearthly tone : 

If gou crate a boon of me, 
I iiemanU a gift of tfice ; 
M I scare tins dfmsttan bantr, 
©base rfjeir banners from tbe lantf, 
SSiirfj the fjanU of Jttoorisfj maftr 
JUust mg succour be repaftr. 
3Ere tbe sun btspels tbe trarft, 
lEre tbe rising of tbe Iarft, 
Offer up tbe price I craoe, 
Utctim in a spirit's cafae ; 
Mtb tfte bantr of gon&et matXr, 
JHust mg succour be repafo. 

And extending his bright transparent arm, glittering 
with myriads of coruscations, towards the nearly senseless 
Visna, his form seemed to melt away, and from being 



118 THE MOORISH MAID. 

plainly visible, diminished in size and outline, till nothing 
but a dim shadow could be discerned, rapidly dissolving 
into air. 

By degrees, the various lights with which the spot 
was illuminated, shone less brilliantly — the farther recesses 
of the cavern, again became indistinct ; and at length, 
hovering for an instant over the clear lake, from whence it 
issued, the dazzling flame died away: and again, Kasbin 
and his beloved Visna, found themselves in darkness, 
and alone. 

Summoning every energy to his aid, his strength 
hardly sufficed to bear the slight and emaciated figure of 
his charge, into the fresh air; nor was it until a lengthened 
period had elapsed, that a gentle sigh convinced her nearly 
distracted lover, that the spirit of the suffering girl had not 
departed. 

When at length the cool sea breeze, playing on her 
pallid brow, in some measure restored her to life, and as 
soon as her extreme weakness enabled her to articulate the 
name of her adored Kasbin, eagerly she implored, that 
without a moment's delay, she might quit the dreadful 



THE MOORISH MAID. 119 

place, from whence the horrid phantom had but just 
departed. 

" Can it be true, Kasbin?" cried the unhappy maiden; 
" can the awful vision which now haunts my mind, be in 
reality, the faithful remembrance of a personal encounter 
with the dread Spirit of our house; or is it but the strongly 
impressed recollection of some one of those hideous dreams, 
which have for so long a time haunted my disturbed and 
unrefreshing slumbers ? " And twining her haik more 
closely around her shivering person, she nestled to the 
side of her true and only friend. 

What reply — what comfort could her companion offer ? 
Shattered and unstrung as his powerful mind had become, 
still he could not cheat himself into the conviction, that 
what he but so lately witnessed, was otherwise than true ; 
and dreadfully the conditions of the Fiend still seemed to 
ring its summons in his ears. 

Well had he prognosticated what, in all probability, 
would be the sacrifice demanded ; and therefore it was, 
that for so long a period, he struggled against yielding to 
the solicitation of her, whom he well surmised, would be 

Q 



120 THE MOORISH MAID. 

demanded as an offering in return for his deliverance. 
Yet now, that he had allowed her soft persuasion to over- 
come his better judgment — now that the step was taken, 
which could never be retraced — that Rubicon passed, from 
whence no return might be looked for — he felt like a pur- 
sued criminal, driven to the edge of a frightful precipice, 
from whence, on every side, destruction, inevitable de- 
struction, stood arrayed before him. 

To resign Visna, his beloved Visna, the companion of 
his boyhood, the cherished of his soul — her, whose smile 
since infancy had ever been his chief reward — the greatest 
earthly blessing he desired — to resign that adored being 
voluntarily, and for his preservation, into the clutches of 
the detested Fiend ! Never ! — rather would he have been 
torn piecemeal — his very heartstrings plucked from his 
lacerated breast, than voluntarily deliver up her beauteous 
form, to so awful, so horrible a doom. 

Rapidly as these thoughts passed through his mind, 
yet more quickly was his resolution taken ; and again 
lifting the lovely burden, he hurried towards the western 
face of the Rock, determined to regain the Castle, and 



THE MOORISH MAID. 121 

there, if denied further succour, to perish in each other's 
arms. 

Darkness yet covered the land, while painfully, and 
with much exertion, Kasbin still staggered forward in the 
direction of the Mosque. But little had he calculated his 
strength : the excitement of the foregoing scene — the state 
of agony, nearly bordering on despair, which probed his 
very soul when the edict of the Spirit went forth, supplied 
him for the instant with almost superhuman strength, and 
enabled him to rush from the cavern, and by dint of 
overpowering exertions, restore his Visna to existence. 

But now, that he felt comparatively safe from that 
immediate danger, a lassitude, against which his prostrated 
strength proved powerless, grasped his frame with a 
gigantic power — a dreadful sinking at the heart paralized 
his action — a faint dizziness passed across his eyes — his 
limbs sunk under the weight he carried — objects floated 
around in confused masses — and, in an instant, the once 
powerful figure of the Moorish warrior sank senseless on 
the turf. 

Brief was the cessation from misery granted by insen- 



122 THE MOORISH MAID. 

sibility, to the powerless chieftain ; and when at length he 
raised his head from the green spot whereon he had fallen, 
sounds, alas ! too familiar to his senses, met his ear. 

Borne upwards from the gates of the town, to where 
he then lay, rang the loud cry of strife — the shrieks of the 
wounded, and ever and anon the piercing yell of agony 
from some wretch, who, having gained the summit of the 
ramparts, was hurled backwards by the spears of the 
besieged into the vast depth below, were plainly audible. 

" Allah ! holy Allah !" exclaimed Kasbin ; " the 
Christians storm the walls, and I not there to aid my 
gallant Moslems in their defence. But never shall it be 
said that danger hovered near, and that the last of my race 
shunned the peril which the meanest of his warriors gladly 
encountered." 

And raising himself with difficulty, he prepared to 
press onward to the scene of action, when the voice of 
Visna checked his steps. 

To take the poor girl with him, would have been 
worse than useless ; and to leave her there, exposed to out- 
rage, and perhaps insult, from some marauding party that 



THE MOORISH MAID. 123 

chance might direct to the spot, was equally impossible. 
And as the din of arms, and the shout of men, grew each 
instant more and more distinct, it was with a feeling of 
delight he observed a narrow passage in the Rock, which 
he trusted might lead to some secluded aperture, where, in 
safety, his betrothed could tarry until his return. 

Moments were indeed precious ; so, briefly explaining 
the absolute necessity of their temporary separation, 
together they entered the nearly hidden fissure, carved 
from the substance of the solid stone. 

" For a time, Visna, and please Allah ! but for a short 
time, must we part. Here you can rest in safety until my 
return; and dreadful as the separation is to both, how 
could I ever deem myself worthy of your love, if, while 
the clash of war sounded near, and the accursed Christian 
thundered at our gates, I, of all the few remaining of our 
host, alone sought safety in concealment, nor dared to face 
the foe ?" 

" Alas ! dearest Kasbin," she replied, " unworthy, 
truly, should I be of your affection, did I for a moment 
allow any selfish feeling of my own to dim the bright 



124 THE MOORISH MAID. 

glory of your name. No, Kasbin ; I would not strive by 
one poor word of mine to win you from the path where 
honour points. Go," she repeated, as having passed the 
narrow entrance, they now stood within a huge and lofty 
hall ; " go, my own, my beloved chief ; and should you 
ne'er return to claim your devoted Visna, doubt not but 
her spirit will speedily rejoin yours in those blessed gar- 
dens of the Prophet, where earthly ills and human suffer- 
ings are alike unknown. Kasbin, my beloved, farewell !" 

And vainly struggling to controul the gush of anguish 
which sunk heavily on her heart, the Moorish girl burst 
into a passionate flood of tears ; and hiding her face upon 
his bosom, sobbed as though the last link that bound her 
to existence, was strained to its utmost stretch. 

" Farewell, dearest Visna!" reechoed her companion; 
and gently disengaging the weeping girl from his embrace, 
he turned to depart, when a shriek — so shrill, so piercing — 
rang through the dark caves beyond, that none whose for- 
tune it might have been to catch the unearthly sound, 
could have forgotten its horrid cadence till their latest 
day. 



THE MOORISH MAID. 125 

In an instant the truth flashed across Kasbin's mind, 
that, nearly unconscious of his acts, he had unwittingly 
cast himself into the very danger which he so anxiously 
had endeavoured to avoid ; and in his fervent desire to 
find some place of shelter for his weaker companion, he it 
was who had led her into St. Michael's Cave, and the toils 
of the Fiend, and was then hastening to leave her, alone 
and unprotected, to his vengeance. 

The shout of war, the groans of the fallen, and the 
clash of arms, by him were heard no more — sight, hearing, 
strength, every faculty, both of mind and body, were 
brought to meet the horrible emergency, to which not 
only himself, but she whom he loved above all the world, 
was then exposed. 

As before, the visor of the Fiend was down ; but un- 
like the apparition in St. Martin's Cave, the Spirit alone 
shone forth in all his brilliancy, amid the gloom ; and no 
sooner had Kasbin cast his glance upon the figure, than 
the same unearthly voice which he before heard, once 
more spoke: — 



126 



THE MOORISH MAID. 



fire tfje &>un fctspels tftt irarfc, 
lEre tlje rising of tije Iarfc, 
SSJttS t§t fjanii of ponirer tnaftr, 
JtXust mg succour be repattr ; 
Christian ne'er sfjall ijarm tjie lantf, 
Mlijih 5 possess ti)e J^taftien's fjanci. 

And advancing from his position, the Sprite slowly 
glided towards his victim. 

"Avaunt, foul fiend!" exclaimed Kasbin, unsheathing 
in an instant his jewelled scimitar; "avaunt! nor dare 
pollute with your vile touch, one, whose every thought 
and act is purity itself." And placing himself in a posture 
of defence, he threw himself between the Sprite and his 
beloved. 

" By the virtue of the compact entered into, centuries 
since, between my unfortunate forefathers and yourself," 
continued Kasbin ; " by the virtue of that compact, which 
even such as you are, dare not break, I command you to 
keep your oath. By that compact, entered into with my 
misguided predecessors, well are you aware, that all power 



THE MOORISH MAID. 127 

to harm the virtuous, is denied you. Greatly to be dreaded 
as your spells are, still even those have their limits; and 
again, and for the last time, in the name of Allah, I defy 
your evil machinations, and command your aid in liberating 
this maiden from the terrors that surround her." 

During this impassioned address, the Spirit had re- 
treated to his former station, and though venting his dis- 
appointment and rage, by every species of energetic 
menace that his form could assume, still he attempted 
not to approach nearer, but again gave utterance to his 
thoughts. 

p^augfitg JJloskm, 'twas agreeU, 
@tntf as gou utter, so foecreelj ; 
Yet tfjouoj) perform I must obeg 
^fte oarl) tfiat curbs tug ebtl sfcoag : 
&ntf tfiougfi I sfn'efij from present til, 
Yon JUoortsi) mafu, agatnst mg mill ; 
J^rom tin's fcreaij moment, Jtfloslem banir 
Sbfiall ne'er fioftr sfcoag o'er ©fmsttan lanir. 

And sending forth peals of demoniacal laughter, 
the Silver Sprite dashed his glittering helmet to the 

R 



128 THE MOORISH MAID. 

ground, and disclosed the revolting skeleton of a flesh- 
less skull. 

Again the crash of human strife rose in the air — the 
evil passions of man, seemed as if vieing with the un- 
earthly shrieks of demons ; until at length, screams and 
curses rent the sky; and with a deafening shout, the 
Spaniards forced the gates — and Gibraltar ceased to be 
the country of the Moors. 



Between Fez and Tetuan, may yet be seen the 
fast mouldering remains of what must once have been 
a splendid mausoleum ; but time, and his equally power- 
ful aid, neglect, have long ere now defaced each sculp- 
tured ornament : and little can be gathered from the 
heap of ruins, but a lesson — useful indeed to those who 
ponder on it, of the certain mutability of all human 
things. 



THE MOORISH MAID. 129 

Crumbling to decay, as this once magnificent struc- 
ture now is, the Moors affirm, that in some of the defaced 
characters which they show, may plainly be deciphered, 
the names of 



K A S B I N 

AND 

VISN A. 



" Good gracious, Fairlie !" exclaimed Osborne, much 
surprised; "in virtue of all that is locomotive, how did 
they get there ? I thought you left them in St. Michael's 
cave, talking to a gentleman with a bald head." 

" So I did, Osborne," replied the other ; " but from 
this tale, springs the origin of the tradition, still often 
repeated on the Rock, to the effect, that from St. Michael's 
cave, a passage yet exists, which, passing beneath the 
ocean, finds an opening on the shores of Africa." 



130 THE MOORISH MAID. 

" Oh, really !" chimed in Delacy, and laughing either 
with, or at their romantic companion, claimed a pathetic 
song, as a most fitting ending to the doleful narrative. 

With his accustomed good humour, and ever willing- 
ness to please, Fairlie immediately sang : — 



131 



THE SUJV SMILES OER. 



Wo i cv 

w J- \- Ha . 

Pi „ij\to 
Forte 


^ u A NDJUVTE. 






9 


ff • f 




1*" "t*"1 






~>.fff 






a / 

»- p r i 


— • 


t r t 


IS 


if 


— «j U 

i-Tl <r 










— ^ — 






-1 


jH» 








The sun smiles o'er the 


— J-i— a 

deep K 


I s 

ue > 




And 




— p— 


0i — 




#- 


=r 


' -J 


-0 L 








■ 


1 

i 


r 




-F 

-« 


m 

gilc 

m 


Is th( 


? flow'rs c 


ips 

n ma_ny a 
J 


gra\ 




r ■ 

< 

A 


» — L_J_ 

jid as 


the tender 


)iidsun _ 




- 1 
1 

f 

^ 


^— ^ 

* 1 

-a, 5> ! 

J 


? i 1 

1 J 1 : 


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132 




flowi' ret 



scents the air, AH un der_ neath the 









—if — 1 




















s — s 










— • 

1 ■• 




J-*l 


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!j a^J 

1 1 — i— • 













* — 



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4 



wave is deep And dark some, as. 



the 



last long sleep. 

is: 



i 



*i hi 



— 1: 



444^ 4 4 









e 




— fif — 1 


f 


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• 



THE SUN SMILES O'ER. 



1. 

The sun smiles o'er the deep blue wave, 
And gilds the flower on many a grave, 
And as the tender buds unfold, 
He decks the leaves with liquid gold. 
Yet though the ocean smiles so fair, 
And though each flow'ret scents the air, 
All underneath the wave is deep 
And darksome as — the last long sleep. 

2. 

Though shrubs of many a lovely hue, 
The myrtle green and violet blue, 
May perfume with their fragrant breath 
The air around the couch of death; 
Yet, though affection gild the tomb, 
Though round the marble roses bloom, 
The space within the hallowed bier 
Is lonely — cold — and sadly drear. 

3. 

Ah ! thus how oft a laugh may rise, 

And joy may beam from beauty's eyes, 

And sylph-like forms may glide along, 

Like fairy nymphs, amid the throng ; \ 

Yet mark yon brow so dazzling fair, 

Can eyes like those be dimm'd by care "? 

Alas ! within that breast may dwell, 

What silent anguish — who may tell \ 



134 THE CORK WOOD. 

During the day, the three comrades agreed to pro- 
ceed on the following morning to the Cork Wood, where, 
at some small distance from Gibraltar, stood the remains 
of an old building, formerly in the possession of some reli- 
gious order. 

" I know not," remarked Osborne, as they pursued 
their accustomed ramble, " I know not whether there 
may yet remain anything within the structure worthy of 
Delacy's pencil ; but I can take upon myself to vouch for 
the picturesque appearance of the outside, which, in itself, 
is amply sufficient to engage attention, while Fairlie and 
myself stroll through the unfurnished chambers, with the 
ancient Padre, who wanders amid the gloomy corridors of 
the edifice, more resembling a wearied ghost seeking his 
abode among the tombs of his brethren, than an actual 
bona Jide Friar, the last inhabitant of the place." 

" Sets the wind in that quarter, fair sir ?" replied 
Fairlie. " Another nun, and a second monk, I presume, 
by way of adding a little piquancy to the ride ? Now, if 
such be the case, Osborne, it is but fair to inform you at 
the commencement, that never again will I connive at the 



THE CORK WOOD. 135 

perpetration of such horrors ; so, if you and Delacy are 
bent on throwing people into the ocean, and burying young 
ladies alive, seek no assistance at my hands, for I tell you 
plainly, I'll none on't." 

" What a great misfortune it is," observed Delacy, 
not a little amused, " that no one, save Osborne and 
myself, are by to listen to your oratorical powers. Why, 
my dear fellow," he continued, " you have become so 
energetic, and talk with such vehemence, that were any 
strangers passing at this moment, they must unques- 
tionably put me down in their mind as one of the most ruth- 
less destroyers of our own race that ever flourished since 
the days of Herod ; therefore, as you have chosen to cri- 
ticise Osborne's well believed legend, it will be but fair 
should we pass a few observations on your own." 

" With all my heart," answered the other, gaily. " I 
conclude your remarks will tally with the feelings of him 
who exclaimed, 

' Oh, that mine enemy had written a book.' 
So first warning you that your arrows, though dipped in 



136 delacy's criticisms 

gall, and pointed with satire, as sharply as you please, 
will all bound harmless away from my proof corslet of 
indifference. Now, gentlemen, if you have anything to 
advance, speak out." 

" All I have to observe on this important matter," 
laughed Delacy, " may be summed up in a very few 
words. By your account, it would appear, that once upon 
a time, dwelt a lady and somewhat dusky gentleman, in a 
large castle, rather scantily supplied with attendants and 
light ; and what was worse than all, having a very indifferent 
establishment in the culinary department. Now, it would 
seem, that one evening the lady and gentleman aforesaid, 
found themselves extremely hungry, when, instead of 
ringing for dinner, supper, or whatever else they might 
have wanted, off they set to hold a long conversation on 
the subject in the balcony, by moonlight, with, I presume, 
the laudable object of enjoying the feast by anticipation ; 
and in lieu of sending for a cook, they took the trouble to 
ascend a huge mountain, for the purpose of asking a 
friend to furnish them with comestibles appropriate to their 
state of appetite. By the bye, Fairlie," he continued, 



on fairlie's legend. 137 

" I conclude you took that idea from the ancient saying, to 
the effect, that 

' Providence sends provisions, and his satanic majesty cooks.'" 

" Bravo, Delacy," chimed in Osborne ; " this retort on 
our romantic friend is perfectly fair and just. And then 
the end of the story ! — the passage under the sea ! Why, 
the Thames tunnel is but as a child's plaything to Fairlie's 
engineering. Excellent, truly ;" and both officers laughed, 
as though much enjoying the infliction which so unsparingly 
they lavished on their companion. 

" Laugh, gentles, as you will," good-humouredly 
interrupted Fairlie. " I told you, in the first instance, you 
had my free will to rejoice at my expense, even to the 
utmost verge to which you may be able to force your mer- 
riment. So while you find pastime in criticising, I feel fain 
to solace myself with song." 



s 



OH, WELL I REMEMBER! 



Oh, well I remember, ere sorrow had thrown 

Her shadow to chequer the morning of life, 
Ere the roses we dreamt of had blossom'd and blown, 

And childhood was bartered for manhood and strife ! — 
Oh, then have we wandered in infantine glee, 

And wove with the leaves and the flowers a chain ! 
Ah ! little I dreamt, when we cast it o'er thee, 

I was fettered by links which must ever remain. 

2. 

When in sorrow I trace back the years that are past, 

'Mid friends who were fickle, and those who have died, 
I heed not the voice — so remembrance but last, 

To recall the loved days I have passed by thy side. 
'Tis a dream sweet to cherish — a heavenly ray, 

To light my dull path till my journey be o'er ; 
'Twill shield me — 'twill bless me — till life fades away : 

Then why should you murmur — I love you no more \ 



VICINITY OF GIBRALTAR. 139 

The rides round the neighbourhood of Gibraltar have 
been so frequently described, that a lengthened detail of 
the beauties of the picturesque scenery which on all sides 
meets the eye, would but afford a repetition of words, 
without conveying any new idea of the loveliness of the 
country, to the imagination of those readers, whose good 
fortune may not as yet have added a tour of Spain to their 
wanderings. 

Over the space of country to be traversed between 
the Rock of Gibraltar and the Convent in the Cork Wood, 
every diversity of landscape may be met with. Wood and 
water, hill and dale, lavishly bestow their aid towards 
enhancing the prospect ; while the clear blue sky spreads 
itself out as a bright transparent mantle above the whole. 

The distance between the two points alluded to, 
does not exceed twelve or fourteen miles; yet, as is 
ever the case in this world, nothing exists of the beautiful 
and bright, without alloy. 

The ride to the Cork Wood forms no exception to the 
rule ; and the drawback, though not always encountered, 
is sufficiently disagreeable when met. In short, many 



140 THE CORK WOOD. 

Spanish gentlemen — disregarding the troubles of house- 
keeping, and spurning the shackles which a more artificial 
state of society imposes on all who commune with the 
world — have taken up their dwelling amid the sylvan fast- 
nesses of the woods ; and occasionally issuing forth from 
their seclusion, make the most unaccountable mistakes 
imaginable, with regard to the property and persons of 
others. 

Numerous are the instances of gross blunders these 
beings have committed ; and so exceedingly hospitable do 
they occasionally prove, that it is of no rare occurrence for 
a traveller to find himself leaving the tract he was desirous 
to pursue, and wandering, in the society of a large band of 
jovial companions, in a direction diametrically opposite to 
that leading to his own home. 

In some instances, this eccentricity, on the part of the 
wanderers, has been productive of much inconvenience 
and anxiety to their guests : and it is recorded that bodily 
as well as mental suffering has occasionally been expe- 
rienced. We have often heard tales and adventures in 
abundance, that have been recounted to us by those who 



THE CONVENT. 141 

have been favoured by an interview with these children of 
the forest ; but though we have, at various and different 
periods, rambled through most parts of its shady glades, 
hitherto the Cork Wood has produced to our vision, 
naught more terrific than occasionally a startled deer, 
or perchance, the angry grunt of a misanthropic wild 
boar. 

Similarly divested of strong excitement, was the 
journey of the three officers, on the morning when they 
rode forth, bent on exploring the vicinity of the antique 
edifice ; and after a delightful ride of two hours, found 
themselves in front of the venerable Padre's picturesque 
abode. 

As a piece of architecture, it has but little to claim 
attention ; and on entering the arched doorway, the usual 
court yard, surrounded by pillars, with a deep, clear, well, 
placed in the centre, shaded with the foliage of numerous 
orange trees, are the only striking features of the place. 

The different apartments, of which there is a great 
number, still retain the appellations significant of the use 
to which they were formerly appropriated ; and in many 



142 THE CONVENT CHAPEL. 

cases, small niches above the doors, yet support the mu- 
tliated remains of what possibly may have been images of 
some of the most popular saints. 

But the spot most revered by the Padre, and from 
which he invariably continues to draw the attention of his 
visitors, until each other novelty has been examined, is the 
small chapel ; or rather, what yet remains of the chapel of 
the Convent. 

Faded silk, and gaudy tinsel, may be there found in 
abundance ; and with a demonstration of no small portion 
of worldly pride still beating within his aged bosom, the 
venerable friar, after much trouble in uncasing various 
strongly bound places of security, generally produces the 
carefully preserved gorgeous canonicals of his church. 

In this chapel, now but little frequented, may be 
found, diminutive silver casts of various parts of the human 
frame, offered up by the peasants, by way of thanksgiving 
for restoration from maladies of nearly every description 
to which our nature is liable to, and of which afflictions, 
one at least is supposed subject to the power of some of 
the multitudinous saints in the Calendar. 



THE PADRE. 143 

The object most worthy of contemplation, is the 
Padre himself, as slowly he glides along, amid the scenes 
of his former greatness. It would be well worthy of study, 
were it possible, that the feelings of that old man's heart 
could be laid bare. What must his sensations be, when 
his fast failing vision unavoidably recalls to his mind, the 
difference between the scenes around him now, and that 
which it presented in the time of his prosperity. 

Clothed in his silken vest, and the shovel hat, pe- 
culiar to the priests of Spain, his long white hair straying 
down his back, none can behold his drooping figure, with- 
out interest. 

He stands as the last tottering pillar of some once 
noble structure, which time, and the hand of the spoiler 
have conspired to destroy, but which still attempts to 
buffet with the storm. 

Who can dispute, but that in the sunny hour of 
youth, hope beamed as bright, and pleasure smiled as 
alluringly, in his bosom, as in those of millions of his fellow 
men. 

To his eyes, all may have been clothed in the garb of 



144 THE PADRE. 

beauty. Who can say, what passions held him in their 
sway, ere he relinquished the world for ever ? — Ambition, 
pride, and perhaps love. 

What, in that distant period, might have been his 
anticipations of the future ? — And how have they been 
realized ? — Who can answer ? We have already conjec- 
tured what he might have been. But what is he now ? 
A feeble, ancient man, worn with cares, and stricken with 
adversity ; eking out the few unenjoyable days of his pil- 
grimage, amid the scattered remains of his brethren ; 
friendship — acquaintance — love — hope — ambition — all bu- 
ried in the grave. The very building, where for years he 
had found repose, tottering over his head ; while he, the 
last, the only one of that proud order, was fain to seek a 
pittance from the stranger, to enable nature to add a few 
hours more, to the bitter many already encountered. 

" It is a hard lot, truly," remarked Delacy, in reply 
to the foregoing observations uttered by Osborne ; " yet 
he has one consolation, wretched as he may be " 

" That he might have been worse, I presume you 
mean !" exclaimed Fairlie. " Of a verity, my good friend, 



NEW year's eve. 145 

you are the most consolatory comforter I ever had oppor- 
tunity of confronting. Well, well, so is it ; and truly 
fortunate that none of us can foretell our destiny. All 
wish to start ; and yet none know to what goal they are 
hastening ; just as you see people make innumerable pre- 
parations for ushering in the new year, the completion of 
which, possibly, they are doomed never to witness. In 
exemplification of which simile, I will — if you desire it — 
sing you 



NEW YEAR'S EVE. 
1. 

As you gaze round the hall 'mid the young and the gay, 

Would you call back the days that have fled 1 
Could you wish Father Time to retrace his dull way, 

And again pass the year that has sped 1 
Oh ! the scene shone as fair but a twelvemonth ago, 

And the wine that we drank was as bright ; 
Now the goblet we quaffed from, again shall o'erflow, 

And be pledged in as gaily to-night. 



146 NEW year's eve. 

2. 

Tis true that the jest and the song may go round 

As blithely again as before, 
And the soft strain of melody now may resound, 

And lips breathe the name they adore. 
But was it not so when the old year ran out, 

And the new one was hailed with delight ? — 
Oh ! well I remember the soul-stirring shout 

That welcomed him in — as to-night. 

3. 

The banquet is spread, and the mirth is the same, 

While forms that we know well are here ; 
But many who last year were first in each game 

Of frolic — now sleep on their bier. 
All the hopes that we cherished have faded and past, 

Brief and bright as the fire-fly's light ; 
While bike those who have gone — may not this be the last 

Happy time we may meet — as to-night ? 

4. 

I care not to cast round the halo of youth, 

A sorrow to shadow the ray ; 
For the young and the lovely too often, in sooth, 

Are worshipped — and then pass away. 
Yet think not of woe, though he's sure to appear, 

And compel all to bow to his might ; 
Now we'll heed not his voice, but let's glide through the year, 

As we've gone through the joys of to-night. 



THE CONVENT. 147 

" I think," observed Osborne, on their way home- 
ward, " that of all the places I have hitherto visited in the 
neighbourhood of Gibraltar, the remains of the old Convent 
we have just quitted, deserve most attention; and from 
the immense space of time which must have elapsed since 
its foundation, many an occurrence, whereon to found 
a romantic legend, I doubt not, has, at some period or 
other, come to pass." 

" No occasion whatever exists for taxing your imagi- 
nation in the matter, Osborne," replied Delacy; "neither 
need you wander through the dark labyrinths of former 
ages, in search of materials wherewith to frame a tale; 
for much of evil passions, and many a deed of bloodshed, 
have those now crumbling walls been witness of, in days 
not removed by centuries, nor even years, from the pre- 
sent time. Scarcely have a few months rolled by," he 
continued, "when a horrible cold-blooded assassination 
was perpetrated on the spot we have so recently examined. 
The murderer was a miller, a person well known in this 
vicinity; and, moreover, one possessing considerable au- 
thority still. His victim was a priest ; and, as is the case 



148 ASSASSINATIONS 

nine times out of ten, at least, in Spain, the cause was 
jealousy. It is a horrible story, and too long to relate at 
this period. 

" Let it suffice, that whether well founded or other- 
wise, the admirer of a bright-eyed peasant girl having, with- 
out much inquiry, and with little investigation, impressed 
himself with a belief of the lady's partiality for his rival, 
his determination was instantly taken ; and after watching 
for some days from a place of concealment, like a tiger 
lying in wait to spring upon his prey, the opportunity 
at last offered ; and in broad day, with many persons va- 
riously employed around, he shot the unfortunate object of 
his hatred through the heart, when passing out of the con- 
vent door." 

" Was he punished ?" enquired Fairlie. 

" Not at all," was the reply ; " nor indeed was any 
notice taken of the matter. Murders of that description 
are too frequent in this beautiful, but unfortunate country, 
to claim much attention from the authorities ; and even 
had they the will to interfere, I much doubt their possess- 
ing the power." 



IN SPAIN. 149 

" Was the assassination you have just mentioned, the 
only exploit in which this worthy gentleman distinguished 
himself?" asked Osborne. 

" Quite the reverse," answered Delacy ; " within two 
years, he thought proper to shoot a man in the public 
streets at St. Roque ; and yet here you may often meet 
him wandering about, as unconcernedly as though he had 
never committed an act of violence since the dawn of his 
existence. I do not pretend to vouch for the truth of the 
statement, but eight is the number of victims that popular 
credence places to his credit, as having deprived of life ; 
yet, notwithstanding all this, those who know him, speak 
of his exceeding good humour, affability, and above all, his 
extreme urbanity and gentleness." 

" The gentleness of a hungry lion, I presume," in- 
terrupted Fairlie. 

" I never met him in person," answered the other ; 
" but those who, a short time back, accompanied Prince 
George of Cambridge on a shooting expedition up the 
mountains, might have studied him to their heart's con- 
tent, since there he was in propria persona, and moreover 



150 CASTELLAR. 

made himself eminently useful, and exerted his authority, 
so as to secure for the party various small comforts, 
which, under the circumstances wherein they were placed, 
were truly welcome." 

" I dispute it not," observed Osborne ; " but thank 
the fates, gentlemen of that description would in England 
stand a far greater chance of appearing in the condemned 
cell, than in running about in a splendid fancy dress of 
green velvet and silver buttons, doing the honours of a 
picnic, spread out in a picturesque valley." 

" And richly would he deserve it," remarked Fairlie. 
" But tell me, Delacy," he continued, " have you as yet 
visited Castellar and Los Barrios, for they are both in their 
way worthy of inspection ?" 

" Hitherto," replied his friend, " opportunity has 
never offered ; but I trust, ere long, to be enabled to gra- 
tify my wish." 

" Castellar," chimed in Osborne, " is indeed a pictu- 
resque object ; and there it was that for months the French 
vainly exerted every endeavour to make themselves master 
of the place ; but no, — gallantly, and in the true Saragossa 



LOS BARRIOS. 151 

style, the Spaniards held their own ; until, at length, 
harassed by the Guerillas fast closing around, and fearful 
of their retreat being cut off, the French deemed it 
advisable to raise the siege and depart." 

" Nobly done !" exclaimed Fairlie ; " but what of Los 
Barrios ? Did the inhabitants of that place stand out as 
gallantly against the invaders, as did their neighbours of 
Castellar ?" 

" They had not the same means of defence," an- 
swered the other, " Los Barrios being an open, unfortified 
town ; but every nerve was strained to keep in check the 
overwhelming inroads of the French. Among other means 
resorted to, was the destruction of the two centre arches 
of the stone bridge immediately close to the town. This 
was effected by the patriots in one thousand eight hundred 
and eight, while the French were besieging Cadiz. And 
having been maturely planned and successfully executed, 
an immense number of the enemy fell into the hands of 
the relentless Spaniards, who as rigorously repaid with the 
halter and the knife the manifold injuries and oppressions 
under which they themselves had so often and so severely 



152 LOS BARRIOS. 

suffered. The bridge has long since been repaired with 
wood; but the stone arches still are, and probably ever 
will be, wanting." 

" So much for Los Barrios, then !" cried out Fairlie ; 
" but if we loiter thus upon the road, I have a shrewd 
suspicion we must make Osborne's long and tedious stories 
stand us in lieu of more substantial comforts ; for unless 
we progress faster, I opine our resting-place for the night 
must be found outside the walls of our fortress." 

" For once, Fairlie," answered Osborne, " I fully 
agree with what you advance ; and so far coincide in opi- 
nion, that unless we ride somewhat more speedily, I fancy 
your disagreeable prognostic will be verified." 

This point being settled, the friends urged their 
reluctant steeds to a quicker pace; and as Fairlie could 
no more ride without singing, than he could walk without 
talking, his voice was soon heard above the clatter of their 
horses' hoofs. 



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OTHER DAYS. 



1. 

How oft when by the cheerful blaze 

That shone around my father's hall, 
I've sat and sighed for other days ! 

Oh, could I now those hours recall ! 
I left my home : my heart was light, 

And pleasure strewed my heedless way ; 
The world and all I saw were bright, 

Life seemed one joyous holiday. 

2. 

Years fleeted by : I gained the spot 

Where childhood's happy days had fled ; 
The sound of welcome reached me not, 

For those I loved were gone or dead. 
My little brother's joyous tone 

No more will sing in infant glee ; 
The hearth is cold — I stand alone — 

Are these the days I pined to see \ 



156 THE ANDALUSIAN MAID. 

" But have you not anything to sing, Fairlie, regard- 
ing the country in which we now wander ? — no Spanish 
air, or sentimental tale in verse ?" enquired Delacy. 
" Surely, amid your heterogeneous collection, you must 
have something more appropriate than your last song." 

" You greatly overvalue my knowledge of the joyous 
science," he replied, on being pressed by the other officers. 
" But whatever I may be enabled to contribute to your 
amusement, shall most willingly be produced ; and as you 
are determined to have it without reference to my judg- 
ment, at least spare your criticisms afterwards." 

" Commence !" cried his friends together ; and Fairlie 
instantly sang 

THE ANDALUSIAN MAID. 
1. 

I love, when the summer's sun has set 
O'er the dark blue hills of Spain, 

To list to the sound of the Castanet, 
And the peasant's simple strain. 




k' iV -"• ■ S^-"" ■ ■■ ,'"1 ■ ■ 



THE ANDALUSIAN MAID. 



I love the mantilla's easy grace, 

When carelessly 'tis laid, 
To shade, yet show, the lovely face 

Of the Andalusian maid. 

2. 

I love to rest by the orange tree, 

Whose perfume breathes around, 
And gaze on the forms that seemingly 

Scarce touch the velvet ground. 
And I love the zapato's glossy hue, 

As dark as the silken braid, 
Which nestles to rest on the bosom true 

Of the Andalusian maid. 

3. 

I love, when the glare of day has gone, 

To watch the evening star, 
When borne on the breeze the strain comes on 

From some distant light guitar. 
And who that has stood on the martial plain, 

Where the Moslem's spear was laid, 
Would not wish to visit the land again 

Of the Andalusian maid? 



158 A TRANSPORT 

" What are you gazing at, Osborne ? " enquired De- 
lacy, when the song ceased. 

" To say truth," replied the other, " I scarce can tell, 
seeing that I am myself in ignorance of what the object 
may prove, which I am endeavouring to make out. But 
look at the signal-post, and perchance your eyes may be 
better able to solve the riddle." 

" A signal, decidedly," answered Delacy ; " but at 
this distance, I cannot take upon myself to determine 
what." 

" In that, methinks, / can aid you," exclaimed Fairlie; 
" and if my eyes prove not false, and provided my memory 
play not the truant on this occasion, the signal betokens 
a transport in sight ; and, moreover, one coming from the 
West." 

" A transport !" uttered the others, in a tone of sur- 
prise. " If such really be the case, farewell to all our 
hoped-for future rambles ; for without fail, ere long, one at 
least of our party must, perforce, be carried far away from 
hence." 

" Such is the fate of all in our service," was Delacy's 



IN SIGHT. 159 

answer ; " and though we look forward with regret to our 
parting, still we must remember that it was a separation 
which, however far distant, we were well aware must at 
some period or other occur; and though perforce we 
separate now, let us look forward to the hope of a speedy 
and joyous reunion, where, though in another clime, we 
may again indulge our peculiar fancy with as much ease 
and delight as we wandered about the Rock. 

" In short, if transport it is, go some of us must ; 
and as we well know how useless it is to repine, let us meet 
the annoyance as best we may ; and when we separate, 
only trust we 

' Part to meet again.' " 

" You are quite right, Delacy," remarked Fairlie, 
" and none can dispute the correctness of your philosophy ; 
but, for my part, I have not as yet been sufficiently har- 
dened by daily converse with the world, to bear disappoint- 
ments and to check regrets with such stoical indifference. 
In truth, it is hard, that as soon as you find persons whose 
tastes assimilate with your own, and, moreover, when you 



160 THE PROSPECT 

become sufficiently acquainted to behold your acquaint- 
ance ripen into friendship, invariably comes an order, and 
off goes the party East, West, North, or South, and pro- 
bably never meet again ; or if they do, peradventure the 
contact will be when, occupying three-wheeled chairs, the 
once active soldiers are hauled ingloriously along by a black 
foot-boy in a gold-laced hat, either at Bath or Cheltenham ; 
to which places they are sent by the physicians, to discover 
whether bad water cannot totally dissolve a frame, that 
age, toil, and climate, had not been able wholly to over- 
come." 

" But so it is, my dear Fairlie, throughout the world," 
observed Osborne. " The dearest friends must part; then 
wherefore should you imagine that in our profession alone 
such painful separations exist ? No, no, trust me, my good 
fellow; in all classes, and in all ages, a full share of sorrow 
falls to the lot of each, let him be who he may, who starts 
upon the pilgrimage of life. So rouse yourself, and 
remember the old motto — 



' Nil desperandum ; auspice Deo.' 



OF PARTING. 161 

And therefore, ere we reach Bay-side, sing one more song 
in lieu of sentimental grumbling." 

" I could not sing, Delacy," he replied, " let your 
bribe be what it might ; but if the vessel in sight turns out 
not to be a transport, you shall have no cause to complain 
of my silence to-night." 



The orders issued on the succeeding day speedily 
dissolved the faint hopes of the friends as regarded the 
vessel, which the previous night, had anchored in the bay. 
Doubt now became certainty — conjecture was at an end ; 
for reposing on the deep blue water, lay revealed to the 
sight of all who chose to look towards her, and which 
could never be mistaken for anything else — the transport, 
destined to bear to strange and far distant lands, those 
whose duty it ever is to brave both clime and tempest in 
the honourable distinction of preserving, under the sway 



162 SEPARATIONS. 

of England's sovereign, those possessions which the gal- 
lantry of their forefathers wrested from the grasp of 
others. 



It is not our province here, to dwell on the many 
sorrows and heart-rending scenes that unavoidably and 
constantly occur on such occasions. Far otherwise was 
the task imposed on ourselves, which, in penning these 
pages, we were anxious to accomplish. 

Should the lovely features of any of our fair country- 
women deign to bend over the leaves of this volume, 
bitter indeed would be our regret, were the lines herein 
traced calculated, for an instant, to shadow, even with 
a passing sigh, the gentle feelings of those who — had we 
our own will — should never know an instant of regret, be 
it as trivial as it may. 

The great ambition which prompted us to the under- 



RECOLLECTIONS. 163 

taking, which is now drawing to a close, was the hope — 
perchance erroneously entertained — that this our favoured 
child might find a place in some remote corner of those 
delicious boudoirs, where all that meets the eye 

" Is beautiful, and fair, as good." 

But we are ranging wide of our subject; yet, in truth, 
who can blame the pen, however unskilfully wielded, that 
travels o'er many an unsullied page, when the softer and 
more angelic portion of our race is the theme on which it 
may be employed ? 

It has been our lot to view " Nature's fairest forms," 
in different climes; and although poets may panegyrize 
the soul-melting eye and glossy tresses of Barbary's 
daughters — the captivating languor of the Italian — the 
graceful beauty of the Spanish damsel — the enchanting 
naivete of the French — and the hundred other perfections 
of all nations ; yet, having glanced on all, where does the 
enquirer turn for the personification of all his ideal fancy 
can conceive ? — where does he expect to find united, in one 

x 



164 ENGLISH WOMEN. 

country, the, many excellencies culled from all besides ? 
Where, but in the fairest, loveliest, and most perfect 
work of Providence — the women of our happy land ? 
And had we the power of Fairlie's voice, would gladly 
sing : — 



* 



165 

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OH, SAY NOT WE SHALL MEET NO MORE! 



Oh ! say not we shall meet no more, 

That life is on the wane, 
That feelings we have known before, 

Can ne'er return again. 
Oh ! tell me not that human bliss 

So soon can pass away, 
That all my dreams of happiness 

Must fade as yesterday. 

2. 

Oh ! say not that the form I love 

No more shall meet my gaze, 
And nothing but remembrance prove _ 

The joys of other days. 
Oh ! can it be that loveliness 

Like thine shall lose its bloom — 
That what was sent from Heav'n to bless, 

Shall moulder in the tomb % 



i 



168 



CONCLUDING 



But to return to our story — if, indeed, it deserve the 
name of such. Much as each party regretted the separa- 
tion, all were well aware the evil was unavoidable ; so, 
resolving to make the most of the brief time yet at their 
disposal, they persevered in prosecuting their researches, 
yet without much result ; for the period was chiefly spent 
in forming anticipations for the future ; and in expressing 
hopes of soon again meeting, let the place whereon the 
accomplishment of their wishes was to be fulfilled, be 
where it might. 

Whether it bring good or evil, pain or pleasure, alike 
regardless of those who would either urge forward or 
retard his progress, Time sped on, until at length the day 
of embarkation was at hand. 

We do not mean this work as a channel whereby to 
express to the world at large the phraseology of the camp, 



REMARKS. 169 

or the technicalities of the soldier's language. We will 
therefore merely add, that the music struck up — plumes 
and banners fluttered in the breeze — there were some light 
hearts, and many a sorrowful one ; and here and there 
something resembling a tear was occasionally brushed 
hastily from the cheek. The troops passed on towards 
the Water Port Gate, already noticed ; some white hand- 
kerchiefs, and yet fairer hands, were waved, in token of 
adieu, as the column was vanishing in distance ; then came 
the rear-guard ; they passed on likewise — and, as the 
music at length became hushed, persons returned to 
their accustomed avocations ; and in brief time, the ab- 
sent were, if not altogether forgotten, seldom thought on, 
amid the delights of novelty which new arrivals generally 
produce. 



170 FAREWELL. 

" Fare you well, Osborne," said Delacy, in no very 
joyous mood, as, standing in the boat which was to bear 
him to his vessel, he stretched out his hand towards his 
friend—" Fare you well, Osborne," he repeated, " and fail 
not in your promise to write soon." 

" Trust me, I will keep my word rigidly, Delacy," 
answered the other ; " and, wishing you a happy and a 
speedy voyage, again — and again, I say — farewell ! " 

" And don't you mean to shake hands with me, 
Delacy, ere you go?" cried Fairlie, attempting a cheerful 
tone ; "or think you still, I have some portion of the 
dreaded Sprite about me, and am likely to show you a 
short cut to the West Indies, through Saint Michael's 
Cave, coming out somewhere about Barbadoes ?" 

" I would I had so lively a sprite with me always, my 
dear fellow," rejoined Delacy ; " but, as that cannot be, 
and the boatmen grow impatient, for the last time, to 
each and both, again I say — farewell !" 

" God bless you, old fellow, farewell ! " was the 
spontaneous burst from the lips of the two friends. 



VESSEL SAILING. 171 

And having watched the vessel out of sight, Osborne 
passed his arm through that of his companion, and 
together they slowly turned their steps towards their 
barracks. 



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